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^">'All   DISK: 


•i'i*''-^  OlAk.vui^  UjOutJlvu.    So»&*V\ 

ta-r^o  u^RETUR'M  TO 
WALT   I  ■  .    STUDIO 

CiAG  LlbtrtAftY 


RETURN  TO 

WALT  DiSNEY  STUDIO 

GA@>  tJBRARY 


W' 


\ 


Coniio  Books 
IJy    AliTKMTJS    ^V-AJRD. 

I. 

Arlciiiiis  Ward,  His  Book. 

II. 

Art  emus  Ward;  His  Travels. 

111. 

Arlcimis  Ward;   Iii  London. 

•»•    AU  of  Otese  hooks   are    jyrofiwidy  emhelr 

It.ihrd  with  hniitorowi  illiustraUons,    and 

htiniLwmely   huxind  in   cloth.        Sold 

by  ail  bodli.sclU'rs,   and  sent  by 

mail    riiEK:,   wi    receipt   of 

price,    $1.50. 

liV 

«..  \\  .  4  iirlcloii  A  <o.,  IMibliHliors, 
ISrw  York. 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2008  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/artemuswardinlonOOward 


^"^ ^''''''  ^"-;;'";'"n.i'.n-|„trrKluccs  himself  to  Mr 

I  II  uh — rionti  furcr. 


ARTEMUS  WARD 


IN    LONDON, 


AND  OTHER  PAPERS. 


WITH   COMIC   ILLUSTRATIONS   BY  J.    H.   HOWARD. 

6  ^ 


NEW   YORK: 

G.   W.  Carleion  &  Co.,  Publishers. 

LONDON  :   S.  LOW,   SON   &  CO. 

MDCCCLXVII. 


Enirred  accordinR  to  Act  of  ConRress,  in  ilic  yc.ir  1867,  by 

GEO.  W.  CARLKTON  &  CO., 

la  tbt  Ucrli'*  Office  a(  the  Dlitrict  Court  of  the  United  States  Tor  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


Tm«  Niiw  YiiBK  rmsTiso  Company, 

81,  dj,  ttnii  85  Ctnirt  Stretl, 

Nkw  Ydhk. 


CONTENTS 


Artemus  Ward  in  London  : 

I. — Arrival  in  London  .... 
IL — Personal  Recollections  . 
in. — The  Greenlion  and  Oliver  Cromwell 
IV. — At  the  Tomb  of  Shakspeare  . 

V. — Is  introduced  at  the  Club 
VL— The  Tower  of  London   . 
VII. — Science  and  Natural  History 
VIIL— A  Visit  to  the  British  Museum      . 

IX. — Pyrotechny 

X. — The  Negro  Question      . 


Essays  and  Sketches : 

I. — About  Editors 

II. — Editing 

III. — Morality  and  Genius 
IV. — Popularity      .... 
v.— A  little  Difficulty  in  the  Way 

VI.— Othello 

VII. — Scenes  outside  the  Fair  Ground 
VIIL— Colored  People's  Church 

IX.— Spirits 

X. — Mr.  Blowhard 
XL— Market  Morning    . 
XII.— We  see  two  Witches     . 
XIIL— Rough  beginning  of  the  Honeymoon 


Page 

II  > 
19  V 
27  ' 
36^ 

45  V 

55- 

63. 

72  / 

81 

92 


lOI 

105 
108 
III 
114 
116 

I  ''2 

128 
131 
135 
138 

142 

151 


vi  •  Contents. 

Page 

XIV.— From  a  nomcly  Man     .        .        .        .154 

XV.— The  Elephant 158 

XVI.— Busts 162 

XVII. — A  Colored  Man  of  the  name  of  Jeffries.     164 
XVIII. — How  the  Napoleon  of  sellers  was  sold  ,     166 

XIX. — On  Autumn 169 

XX. — Paying  for  his  Provender  by  praying    .     172 

XXI. — Names 174 

XXII.— Hunting  Trouble 176 

XXIII. — He  found  he  would        ....     179 

XXIV.— Dark  Doings i8l 

XXV— A  Hard  Case 183 

XXVI.— Reporters 185 

XXVII. — Burial  in  Richmond  and  Resurrection 

in  Boston .'    188 

XXVIII.— He  had  the  little  Voucher  in  his  Pocket     194 
XXIX. — The  Gentlemanly  Conductor  .        .196 

XXX. — A  Mayoralty  Election    .         .         .         .198 
XXXI. — Fishing  Excursion  ....     201 

XXXII.— Red  Hand  :  A  Tale  of  Revenge    .        .     204. 
XXXIII.— The  last  of  the  Culkinses— A  Duel  in 
Cleveland  —  Distance    ten    paces — 
Bloody  result — Flight  of  one  of  the 
rrincip.als — Full  particulars       .         .211 
XXXIV. — How  Old  Abe  received  the  news  of  his 

Nomination 220 

XXXV.— Roberto  the  Rover  :  A  Tale  of  Sea  and 

Shore 223 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


I, — Artemus    introducing    himself   to   Mr.    Punch  — 
Frontispiece. 

Page 

II. — Do  his  clothes  have  a  Welchy  appearance  ?  .  25 
I II. — Artemus  Ward  as  Capting  of  the  Home  Guards,  3 1 
IV. — A  visit  to  the  Tomb  of  Shakspeare    .        .        .40 

V. — Artemus  is  taken  for  a  Saler  boy  .  .  •  5^ 
VI.— Playfulness  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  Bear  .        .    70 


PART   I. 

ARTEMUS   WARD   IN   LONDON. 


RETURN    I O 

WALT  DlSr-lEY  vSTUDIO 

GAG  LIBRARY 


ARTEMUS  WARD  IN  LONDON. 

o 

I. 

ARRIVAL     IN     LONDON. 

Mr.  Punch,  My  dear  Sir, — You  prob'ly 
didn't  meet  my  uncle  Wilyim  when  he  was 
on  these  shores.  I  jedge  so  from  the  fack 
that  his  pursoots  wasn't  Htrary.  Com- 
merce, which  it  has  been  trooly  observed 
by  a  statesman,  or  somebody,  is  the  foun- 
dation stone  onto  which  a  nation's  great- 
ness rests,  glorious  Commerce  was  Uncle 
Wilyim's  fort.  He  sold  soap.  It  smelt 
pretty,  and  redily  commanded  two  pents  a 
cake.  I'm  the  only  litrary  man  in  our  fam- 
'ly.  It  is  troo,  I  once  had  a  dear  cuzzun 
who  wrote  22  versis  onto  "A  Child  who 
nearly  Died  of  the  Measles,  O ! "  but  as  he 
injoodiciously  introjuced  a  chorions  at  the 


12  ARRIVAL  IN  LOXDON. 

end  of  each  stanzy,  the  parrents  didn't  like 
it  at  all.  The  father  in  particlcr  wept  afresh, 
assaulted  my  cuzzun,  and  said  he  never  felt 
so  ridicklus  in  his  intire  life.  The  onhappy 
result  was  that  my  cuzzun  abandind  poetry 
forever,  and  went  back  to  shocmakin,  a 
shattered  man. 

My  Uncle  Wilyim  disposed  of  his  soap, 
and  returned  to  his  nativ  land  with  a  very 
cxolted  opinyin  of  the  British  public.  "  It 
is  a  cdycated  community,"  said  he;  "  they're 
a  intellectooal  peple.  In  one  small  village 
alone  I  sold  50  cakes  of  soap,  incloodin 
barronial  lialls,  where  they  offered  me  a 
ducal  coronet,  but  I  said  no — i^ive  it  to  the 
jjoor."  This  was  the  way  Uncle  Wilyim 
went  on.  1  le  told  us,  however,  some  stories 
that  was  rather  too  nuu  h  to  be  easil}'  swal- 
lerd.  In  fack,  my  Uncle  Wilyim  was  not 
a  emblem  of  trooth.  Me  retired  some  years 
ago  on  a  hansum  comjjtency  derived  from 
the  insurance-money  he  received  on  a  rather 
shaky  skooncr  he  owned,  and  which  turned 
uj)  while  lyin  at  a  wharf  one  niL;ht,  the  cargo 
havin  fortnitly  been  remooved  the  day  afore 
the  disa.striss  calamty  occurd.     Uncle  Wil- 


ARRIVAL  m  LONDON.  13 

yim  said  it  was  one  of  the  most  sing'ler 
things  he  ever  heard  of;  and,  after  collcctin 
the  insurance-money,  he  bust  into  a  flood 
of  tears,  and  retired  to  his  farm  in  Pennsyl- 
vany.  He  was  my  uncle  by  marriage  only. 
I  do  not  say  that  he  wasn't  a  honest  man. 
I  simply  say  that  if  you  have  a  uncle,  and 
bitter  experunce  tells  you  it  is  more  profit- 
able in  a  pecoonery  pint  of  view  to  put 
pewter  spoons  instid  of  silver  ones  onto 
the  table  when  that  uncle  dines  with  you 
in  a  frenly  way — I  simply  say,  there  is  sum- 
thun  wrong  in  our  social  sistim,  which  calls 
loudly  for  reform. 

I  'rived  on  these  shores  at  Liverpool,  and 
proceeded  at  once  to  London.  I  stopt  at 
the  Washington  Hotel  in  Liverpool,  be- 
cause it  was  named  after  a  countryman  of 
mine  who  didn't  get  his  living  by  makin' 
mistakes,  and  whose  mem'ry  is  dear  to  ci\'i- 
lised  peple  all  over  the  world,  because  he 
was  gentle  and  good  as  well  as  trooly  great. 
We  read  in  Histry  of  any  number  of  great 
individooals,  but  how  few  of  'em,  alars ! 
should  we  want  to  take  home  to  supper 
with    us!      Amono^    others,  I    would    call 


14  ARRIVAL  AV  LONDON. 

your  attention  to  Alexander  the  Great, 
who  conkerd  tlie  world,  and  wept  because 
he  couldn't  do  it  sum  more,  and  then  took 
to  gin-and-seltzer,  gettin'  tight  every  day 
afore  dinner  with  the  most  disgustin'  reg'- 
larity,  causin'  his  parunts  to  regret  they 
hadn't  'prcnticed  him  in  his  early  3'^outh  to 
a  biskit-baker,  or  some  other  occupation  of 
a  peaceful  and  cjuiet  character.  I  say, 
therefore,  to  the  great  men  now  livin'  (you 
could  put  em  all  into  Hyde  Park,  by  the 
way,  and  still  leave  room  for  a  large  and 
respectable  concourse  of  rioters) — be  good. 
I  say  to  tliat  gifted  but  bald-haled  Proo- 
shun,  Pismarck,  be  good  and  gentle  in  your 
hour  of  triump.  /  always  am.  I  admit 
that  our  lines  is  different,  Pismarck's  and 
mine;  but  the  same  glo'rus  piiiuiple  is  in- 
volved. I  am  a  exhibiter  of  startlin'  curiosi- 
tys,  wax  works,  snaix,  etsetry,  ("either  of 
whom,"  as  a  American  statesman  whose 
name  I  ain't  at  liberty  to  meiUion  for  per- 
litical  resins,  as  he  expecks  to  be  a  candi- 
date for  a  jjrom  nent  offiss,  and  hence  doesn't 
wish  to  excite  the  rage  and  jelisy  of  other 
showmen — "either  of  whom  is  wuth  dub- 


ARRIVAL  IN  LONDON.  1$ 

ble  the  price  of  admission  ") ;  I  say  I  am  a 
exhibiter  of  startlin  curiositys,  and  I  also 
have  my  hours  of  triump,  but  I  try  to  be 
good  in  'em.  .  If  you  say,  "  Ah,  yes,  but 
also  your  hours  of  grief  and  misfortin  ;  "  I 
answer,  it  is  troo,  and  you  prob'ly  refer  to 
the  circumstans  of  my  hirin'  a  young  man 
of  dissypated  habits  to  fix  hisself  up  as  a  A 
real  Cannibal  from  New  Zeelan,  and  when 
I  was  simply  tellin  the  audience  that  he 
was  the  most  feroshus  Cannibal  of  his  tribe, 
and  that,  alone  and  unassisted,  he  had  et 
sev'ril  of  our  fellow-countrymen,  and  that 
he  had  at  one  time  even  contemplated  eatin 
his  Uncle  Thomas  on  his  mother's  side,  as 
well  as  other  near  and  dear  relatives, — when 
I  was  makin'  these  simple  statements,  the 
mis'ble  young  man  said  I  was  a  Iyer,  and 
knockt  me  off  the  platform.  Not  quite 
satisfied  with  this,  he  cum  and  trod  hevily 
on  me,  and  as  he  was  a  very  musculer  per- 
son and  wore  remarkable  thick  boots,  I 
knew  at  once  that  a  canary  bird  wasn't 
walkin'  over  me. 

I  admit  that  my  ambition  ovclept  herself 
in  this  instuns,  and   I've  been  very  careful 


1 6  ARRIVAL  ly  LONDON. 

ever  since  to  deal  square  with  the  pubHc. 
If  I  was  the  public  I  should  insist  on 
squareness,  tho'  1  shouldn't  do  as  a  portion 
of  my  audience  did  on  the  occasion  jest 
mentioned,  which  they  was  emplyed  in 
sum  naberin'  coal  mines.  "  As  you  hain't 
got  no  more  Cannybals  to  show  us,  old 
man,"  said  one  of  'em,  who  seemed  to  be  a 
kind  of  leader  among  'em — a  tall  dis'gree- 
ble  skoundril — "  as  you  seem  to  be  out  of 
Cannybals,  we'll  sorter  look  round  here  and 
fix  things.  Them  wax  figgers  of  yours 
want  washin'.  There's  Napoleon  Bony- 
parte  and  Julius  Casar — they  must  have  a 
i^ath,"  with  wiiich  coarse  and  brutal  remark 
he  imitated  the  shrill  war-hoop  of  the  west- 
ern savige,  and,  assisted  by  his  infamus 
coal-heavin  cnmi)anyins,  he  threw  all  my 
wax-work  into  the  river,  and  let  my  wild 
bears  loose  to  j)ray  on  a  i)eaceful  and  inof- 
fensive agricullooral  comnumity. 

Lcavin  Liverjjooj  (I'm  goin'  back  there, 
tho — I  want  to  see  the  Docks,  which  I 
heard  sj)()kc-n  of  at  least  once  while  I  was 
liicrc)  I  cum  to  London  in  a  ist  class  car, 
pa-ssin'  the  lime  very  agreeable  in  discussin, 


ARRIVAL  IN  LONDON.  1/ 

with  a  countryman  of  mine,  the  celebrated 
Schleswig-Holstein  question.  We  took 
that  int'resting  question  up  and  carefully 
traced  it  from  the  time  it  commenced  beins: 
so,  down  to  the  present  day,  when  my 
countryman,  at  the  close  of  a  four  hours'  an- 
nymated  debate,  said  he  didn't  know  any- 
thing about  it  himself,  and  he  wanted  to 
know  if  I  did.  I  told  him  that  I  did  not. 
He's  at  Ramsgate  now,  and  I  am  to  write 
him  when  I  feel  like  givin  him  two  days  in 
which  to  discuss  the  question  of  negro 
slavery  in  America.  But  now  I  do  not  feel 
like  it. 

London  at  last,  and  I'm  stoppin  at  the 
Greenlion  tavern.  I  like  the  lan'lord  very 
much  indeed.  He  had  fallen  into  a  few 
triflin  errers  in  regard  to  America — he  was 
under  the  impression,  for  instance,  that  we 
et  hay  over  there,  and  had  horns  growin 
out  of  the  back  part  of  our  heads — but  his 
chops  and  beer  is  ekal  to  any  I  ever  per- 
took.  You  must  cum  and  see  me,  and 
bring  the  boys.  I'm  told  that  Garrick 
used  to  cum  here,  but  I'm  growin  skeptycal 
about  Garrick's  favorit  taverns.      I've  had 


iS  ARRIVAL  IN  LONDON. 

over  500  public-houses  pinted  out  to  me 
where  Garrick  went.  I  w^as  indooced  one 
night,  by  a  seleck  comp'ny  of  Britons,  to 
visit  sum  25  pubHc-houses,  and  they  confi- 
dentially told  me  that  Garrick  used  to  go 
to  each  one  of  'em.  Also,  Dr.  Johnson. 
This  won't  do,  you  know. 

May  be  I've  rambled  a  bit  in  this  com- 
munycation.  I'll  try  and  be  more  collected 
in  my  next,  and  meanwhile,  b'licvc  me 
Trooly  Yours, 

Artemus   Ward. 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  1 9 


II. 

PERSONAL   RECOLLECTIONS. 

You'll  be  glad  to  learn  that  I've  made 
a  good  impression  onto  the  mind  of  the 
lan'lord  of  the  Greenlion  tavern.  He  made 
a  speech  about  me  last  night.  Risin'  in 
the  bar  he  spoke  as  follers,  there  bein  over 
2d  individooals  present:  "This  North 
American  has  been  a  inmate  of  my  'ouse 
over  two  weeks,  yit  he  hasn't  made  no  at- 
tempt to  scalp  any  member  of  my  fam'ly. 
He  hasn't  broke  no  cups  or  sassers,  or  furni- 
tur  of  any  kind.  {Hear,  hear)  I  find  I  can 
trust  him  with  lited  candles.  He  eats  his 
wittles  with  a  knive  and  a  fork.  Peple  of 
this  kind  should  be  encurridged.  I  purpose 
'is  'elth !  "     [Loud  'plaws) 

What  could  I  do  but  modestly  get  up 
and  express  a  fervint  hope  that  the  Adan- 


20  FERSON'AL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

tic  Cable  would  bind  the  two  countries  still 
more  clostly  together  ?  The  lan'lord  said  my 
speech  was  full  of  orig'nalit3^  but  his  idee 
was  the  old  stage  coach  was  more  safer, 
and  he  tho't  peple  would  indors  that  opin- 
yin  in  doo  time. 

I'm  gettin'  on  exceedin'  well  in  London. 
I  see  now,  however,  that  I  made  a  mistake 
in  orderin'  my  close  afore  I  left  home. 
Tiie  trooth  is  the  taler  in  our  little  villige 
owed  me  for  a  pig  and  I  didn't  see  any 
otiicr  way  of  gettin'  my  pay.  Ten  years  ago 
these  close  would  no  doubt  have  been  fash- 
'n'blc,  and  perhaps  they  would  be  ekally 
sim'lar  ten  years  hens.  But  now  they're 
diff'rently.  The  taler  said  he  know'd  they 
was  all  right,  because  he  had  a  brother  in 
Wales  who  kcpl  hi)n  iiiformcd  about  Lon- 
don fashins  rcg'lar.  'I^his  was  a  infamus 
falshood.  Hut  as  the  ballud  says  (which  I 
heard  a  gc-nTman  in  a  new  soot  of  black 
close  and  white  kid  gloves  sine:  t'other 
night),  Never  don't  let  us  Despise  a  Man 
because  he  wears  a  Raggid  Coat!  I  don't 
know  as  we  do,  by  th(i  way,  tho'  we  gen- 
'rclly   get   out  of    his    way   pretty    rapid; 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  21 

prob'ly  on  account  of  the  pity  which  tears 
our  boosums  for  his  onhappy  condition. 

This  last  remark  is  a  sirkastic  and  with- 
erin'  thrust  at  them  blotid  peple  who  Hve 
in  gilded  saloons.  I  tho't  I'd  explain  my 
meanin'  to  you.  I  frekently  have  to  ex- 
plain the  meanin'  of  my  remarks.  I  know 
one  man — and  he's  a  man  of  varid  'com- 
plishments — who  often  reads  my  articles 
over  20  times  afore  he  can  make  anything 
of  'em  at  all.  Our  skoolmaster  to  home 
says  this  is  a  pecoolerarity  of  geneyus.  My 
wife  says  it  is  a  pecoolerarity  of  infernal 
nonsens.  She's  a  exceedin  pract3''cal 
woman.  I  luv  her  muchly,  however,  and 
humer  her  little  ways.  It's  a  recklis  fals- 
hood  that  she  hepecks  me,  and  the  young 
man  in  our  neighborhood  who  said  to  me 
one  evenin',  as  I  was  mistenin'  my  diafram 
with  a  gentle  cocktail  at  the  villige  tavun 
■ — who  said  to  me  in  these  very  langwidge. 
"  Go  home,  old  man,  onless  you  desires  to 
have  another  teapot  throwd  at  you  by 
B.  J.,"  probly  regrets  havin  said  so.  I  said, 
"  Betsy  Jane  is  my  wife's  front  name,  gen- 
tle yooth,  and  I  permits  no  person  to  alood 


22  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

to  her  as  B.  J.  outside  of  the  family  circle, 
of  which  I  am  it  principally  myself.  Your 
other  observations  I  scorn  and  disgust,  and 
I  must  pollish  you  off."  He  was  a  able- 
bodied  }ioung  man,  and,  remoovin  his  coat, 
he  inquired  if  I  wanted  to  be  ground  to 
powder .?  I  said.  Yes :  if  there  was  a  Pow- 
der-grindist  handy,  nothin  would  'ford  me 
greater  pleasure,  when  he  struck  me  a 
painful  blow  into  my  right  eye,  causin'  me 
to  make  a  rapid  retreat  into  the  fire-place. 
I  hadn't  no  idee  that  the  enemy  was  so 
well  organised.  But  I  rallied  and  went  for 
him,  in  a  rayther  vigris  style  for  my  time 
of  life.  His  parunts  lived  near  by,  and  I 
will  simply  state  15  minits  had  only  clapst 
after  the  first  act,  wlien  he  was  carried 
home  on  a  shutter.  His  mania  met  the 
.solium  jjrocession  at  the  door,  and  after 
kcerfully  looking  her  orfspring  over,  she 
said,  "My  son,  I  see  how  it  is  distinctually. 
You've  been  fool  in'  round  a  Trashin  Ma- 
sheen.  You  went  in  al  the  i)lace  where 
they  i)ut  the  grain  in,  cum  out  with  the 
straw,  and  you  got  up  into  the  thingamyjig, 
and  let  the  horses  tred  on  you,  didn't  you, 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  23 

my  son?"  The  pen  of  no  livin  Orthur 
could  describe  that  disfortnit  young  man's 
sittywation  more  clearer.  But  I  was  sorry 
for  him,  and  I  went  and  nussed  him  till  he 
got  well.  His  reg'lar  original  father  being 
absent  to  the  war,  I  told  him  I'd  be  a  father 
to  him  myself.  He  smilt  a  sickly  smile, 
and  said  I'd  already  been  wuss  than  two 
fathers  to  him. 

I  will  here  obsarve  that  fitin  orter  be 
alius  avided,  excep  in  extreem  cases.  My 
principle  is,  if  a  man  smites  me  on  the  right 
check  I'll  turn  my  left  to  him,  prob'ly;  but 
if  he  insinooates  that  my  gran'mother  wasn't 
all  right,  I'll  punch  his  hed.  But  fitin  is 
mis'ble  bisniss,  gen'rally  speakin,  and  when- 
ever any  enterprisin  countryman  of  mine 
cums  over  here  to  scoop  up  a  Briton  in  the 
prize  ring  I'm  alius  excessively  tickled  when 
he  gets  scooped  hisself,  which  it  is  a  sad 
fack  has  thus  far  been  the  case — my  only 
sorrer  bein'  that  t'other  feller  wasn't  scooped 
likewise.  It's  diff 'rently  with  scullin  boats, 
which  is  a  manly  sport,  and  I  can  only  ex- 
plain Mr.  Hamil's  resunt  defeat  in  this 
country  on  the  grounds  that  he  wasn't  used 


24  PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

to  British  water.  I  hope  this  explanation 
will  be  entirely  satisfact'ry  to  all. 

As  I  remarked  afore,  Fm  gettin'  on  well. 
I'm  aware  that  I'm  in  the  great  metrop'lis 
of  the  world,  and  it  doesn't  make  me  on- 
happy  to  admit  the  fack.  A  man  is  a  ass 
who  dispoots  it.  That's  all  that  ails  /lim. 
1  know  there  is  sum  peple  who  cum 
over  here  and  snap  and  snarl  'bout  this  and 
that :  I  know  one  man  who  says  it  is  a  shame 
and  a  disgraice  that  St.  Paul's  Church  isn't  a 
older  edifiss ;  he  says  it  should  be  years  and 
even  ages  older  than  it  is;  but  I  decline  to 
hold  myself  responsible  for  the  conduck  of 
this  idyit  simply  because  he's  my  country- 
man. I  s]:)()sc  every  civ'lised  land  is  endowed 
with  its  full  share  of  gibberin'  idyits,  and  it 
can't  be  hclpt — leastways  I  can't  think  of 
any  effectooal  plan  of  iK'lj^in'  it. 

I'm  a  little  sorry  you've  got  politics  over 
here,  but  I  shall  not  diskuss  'em  with  no- 
body. Tear  me  to  peaces  with  wild  omnibus 
bosses,  and  I  won't  diskuss  'cm.  I've  had 
quite  enuff  of  'em  at  home,  thank  you.  I 
was  at  Birmingham  t'other  night,  and  went 
to   the  great  meetin'  for  a  few  minits.     I 


"  Has  my  clothin'  a  Welchy  appearance?" — Sec  page  25. 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS.  2$ 

had'nt  been  in  the  hall  long  when  a  stem 
lookin'  artisan  said  to  me, 

"  You  ar  from  Wales  ?  " 

No,  I  told  him  I  didn't  think  I  was.  A 
hidgyis  tho't  flasht  over  me.  It  was  of 
that  onprincipled  taler,  and  I  said,  "  Has 
my  clothin'  a  Welchy  appearance  ?  " 

"  Not  by  no  means,"  he  answered,  and 
then  he  said,  "And  what  is  your  opinyin  of 
the  present  crisis  ?  " 

I  said,  "  I  don't  zackly  know.  Have  you 
got  it  very  bad  ?  " 

He  replied,  "  Sir,  it  is  sweepin'  over  Eng- 
land like  the  Cymoon  of  the  Desert ! " 

"  Wall,"  I  said,  "  let  it  sweep ! " 

He  ceased  me  by  the  arm  and  said,  "Let 
us  glance  at  hist'r}^  It  is  now  some  two 
thousand  years  — " 

"  Is  it,  indeed }  "  I  replied. 

"  Listin  ! "  he  fiercely  cried  ;  "  it  is  only  a 
little  over  two  thousand  years  since — " 

"  Oh,  bother !  "  I  remarkt,  "  let  us  go  out 
and  git  some  beer." 

"  No,  Sir.  I  want  no  gross  and  sensual 
beer.  I'll  not  move  from  this  spot  till  I  can 
vote.     Who  ar  you  ?  " 

I  handed  him  my  card,  which,  in  addition 


26  PENSOXAL  RECOLLECTIONS. 

to  my  name,  contains  a  clabrit  description 
of  my  show.  "  Now,  Sir,"  I  proudly  said 
"  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  I  sollumly  swear,"  he  sternly  replied, 
"  that  I  never  heard  of  you,  or  your  show,  in 
my  life!" 

"And  this  man,"  I  cried  bitterly,  "calls  his- 
^elf  a  intelligent  man,  and  thinks  he  orter  be 
allowed  to  vote !   What  a  holler  mockery  !  " 

I've  no  objection  to  ev'ry  intelligent  man 
votin'  if  he  wants  to.  It's  a  pleasant  amoo- 
sement,  no  doubt ;  but  there  is  those  whose 
igrance  is  so  dense  and  loathsum  that  they 
shouldn't  be  trustid  with  a  ballit  any  more'n 
one  of  my  trained  serpunts  should  be  trus- 
ted with  a  child  to  play  with. 

I  went  to  the  station  with  a  view  of  re- 
turnin'  to  town  on  the  cars.  "  This  way. 
Sir,"  said  the  guard  ;  "  here  you  ar,"  and  he 
pinted  to  a  first-class  carrige,  the  sole  ocke- 
pant  of  which  was  a  rayther  prepossessin' 
female  of  about  30  summers. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  I  crnestly  replied, 
"  I  prefer  to  walk." 

I  am,  dear  Sir, 

Very  respectivly  yours, 

Artkmus  Ward. 


THE  GREENLION  AND    OLIVER    CROMWELL.    2J 


III. 


THE    GREENLION    AND    OLIVER    CROMWELL. 

Mr.  Punch,  My  dear  Sir, — It  is  now 
two  weeks  since  a  rayther  strange  lookin 
man  engaged  'partments  at  the  Greenlion. 
He  stated  he  was  from  the  celebrated 
United  States,  but  beyond  this  he  said 
nothin.  He  seem'd  to  prefer  sollytood. 
He  remained  mostly  in  his  room,  and  when- 
ever he  did  show  hisself  he  walkt  in  a 
moody  and  morose  manner  in  the  garding, 
with  his  hed  bowed  down  and  his  arms 
foldid  across  his  brest.  He  reminded  me 
sumwhat  of  the  celebrated  but  onhappy 
Mr.  Haller,  in  the  cheerful  play  of  The 
Stranger.  This  man  puzzled  me.  I'd 
been  puzzled  afore  several  times,  but  never 
so  severally  as  now.  Mine  Ost  of  the 
Greenlion    said     I    must    interrigate   this 


28    THE   GREENLION  AND    OLIVER    CROMWELL. 

Strange  bein,  who  claimed  to  be  my  coun 
tryman.  "  He  hasn't  called  for  a  drop  of 
beer  since  he's  been  in  this  ere  Ouse,"  said 
the  landlord.  "  I  look  to  you,"  he  added, 
"  to  clear  up  this  dark,  this  orful  mistry ! " 

I  wrin2:ed  the  lan'lord's  honest  hand,  and 
told  him  to  consider  the  mistry  cleared  up. 

I  ofained  axes  to  the  misterus  bein's  room, 
and  by  talkin  sweet  to  him  for  a  few 
minits,  I  found  out  who  he  was.  Then 
returnin  to  the  lan'lord,  wo  was  nervisly 
pacin  up  and  down  the  bar,  I  said, 

"  Sweet  Rolando,  don't  tremble  no  more ! 
I've  torn  the  marsk  from  the  hawty  stran- 
o-er's  face,  and  dived  into  the  recesses  of  his 
inmost  sole!  He's  a  Trans-Mejim!  " 

I'd  been  to  the  Beefanham  theatre  the 
previs  evenin,  and  probly  the  drammer  I 
saw  affected  me,  because  I'm  not  in  the 
habit  of  goin  on  as  per  above.  I  like  the 
Beefanham  theatre  very  much  indeed,  be- 
cause there  a  cnthoosiastic  lover  of  the 
theatre  like  myself  can  unite  the  legitermit 
drammer  with  fish.  Thus,  while  your  en- 
rai)tcrd  soul  drinks  in  the  lorfty  and  noble 
sentences  of  the  gifted  artists,  you  can  eat 


THE   GREENLION  AND    OLIVER   CROMWELL.    29 

a  biled  mack'ril  jest  as  comfor'bly  as  in  youf 
own  house.  I  felt  constrained,  however, 
to  tell  a  fond  mother  who  sot  immegitly 
behind  me,  and  who  was  accompanied  by 
a  gin  bottle  and  a  young  infant — I  felt  con- 
straned  to  tell  that  mother,  when  her  infant 
playfully  mingled  a  rayther  oily  mack'ril 
with  the  little  hair  which  is  left  on  my 
vener'ble  hed,  that  I  had  a  botde  of  scented 
hair  oil  at  home,  which  on  the  whole  I  tho't 
I  preferred  to  that  which  her  orfspring  was 
greasin  me  with.  This  riled  the  excellent 
female,  and  she  said,  "  Git  out !  You  never 
was.  a  infank  yourself,  I  spose !  Oh  no! 
You  was  too  good  to  be  a  infank  you  was ! 
You  slid  into  the  world  all  ready  grow'd, 
didn't  you.?  Git  out!"  "No,  Madam,"  I 
replied,  "  I  too  was  once  a  infant !  I  was  a 
luvly  child.  Peple  used  to  come  in  large 
and  enthoosiastic  crowds  from  all  parts  of 
the  country  to  see  me,  I  was  such  a  sweet 
and  intel'o^ent  infant.  The  excitement  was 
so  intens,  in  fack,  that  a  extra  hotel  was 
startid  in  the  town  to  accomodate  the  peple 
who  thrqnged  to  my  cradle."  Havin  fin- 
ished these    troothful    statemints,    I    smilt 


30    THE   GREEXLION  AND    OLIVER   CROMWELL. 

sweetly  en  the  worthy  female.  She  said,- 
"  Drat  you,  what  do  you  come  a-chaffin  me 
for?"  and  the  estymible  woman  was  really 
gettin  furis,  when  I  mollyfied  her  by  praisin 
her  child,  and  by  axin  pardin  for  all  I'd 
said,  "  This  little  gal,"  I  observed,  "  this 
surprisingly  luvly  gal — "  when  the  mother 
said.  It's  t'other  sect  is  he,  Sir :  it's  a  boy." 
"  Wall,"  I  said,  "  then  this  little  boy,  whose 
eye  is  like  a  eagle  a-soaring  proudly  in  the 
azure  sky,  will  some  day  be  a  man,  if  he 
don't  choke  hisself  to  death  in  childhood's 
sunny  hours  with  a  smelt  or  a  bloater,  or 
some  other  drefful  calamity.  How  §ur- 
blime  the  tho't,  my  dear  Madam,  that  this 
infant  as  you  fondle  on  your  knee  on  this 
night,  may  grow  up  into  a  free  and  inde- 
jjendent  citizen,  whose  vote  will  be  worth 
from  ten  to  fifteen  pounds,  accordin  as 
sufiVages  may  range  at  thatjoyus  perid  !  " 

Let  us  now  return,  jcntle  reader,  to  the 
lan'lord  of  llic  (ircenlion,  who  we  left  in 
the  bar  in  a  state  of  anxiety  and  persi)ire. 
Rui:)bin  his  hot  face  with  a  red  hankercher, 
lie  said,  "  Is  the  strange  bein  a  American } " 

"He  is." 


THE   GREENLION  AND    OLIVER   CROMWELL.    3 1 

«  A  GenTal  ?  " 

"No." 

"  A  Colonial  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  A  Majer  ? " 

"  Not  a  Majer." 

"ACapting?" 

"  He  is  not" 

"A  leftenant.?" 

"  Not  even  that." 

"  Then,"  said  the  lan'lord  of  the  Green- 
lion,  "  you  ar  deceeved !  He  is  no  country- 
man of  yours." 

"  Why  not  ?  "   I  said. 

"  I  will  tell  you.  Sir,"  said  the  lan'lord. 
"  My  son-in-law  is  employed  in  a  bankin 
house  where  ev'ry  American  as  comes  to 
these  shores  goes  to  git  his  drafts  casht, 
and  he  says  that  not  one  has  arrived  on 
these  shores  durin  the  last  i8  months  as 
wasn't  a  Gen'ral,  a  Colonial,  a  Majer,  a 
Capting,  or  a  leftenant !  This  man,  as  I  said 
afore,  has  deceeved  you !  He's  a  impostuer!" 

I  reeled  into  a  chair.  For  a  minit  I  was 
speechlis.  At  length  I  murmerd,  "Alarsl 
I  fear  it  is  too  troo !  Even  I  was  a  Capting 
of  the  Home  Gards." 


32    TTIE  GEEEMjION  AND    OLIVER   CROMWELL. 

"To  be  sure,"  said  the  lan'lord;  "you  all 
do  it,  over  there." 

"  Wall,"  I  said,  "  whatever  nation  this 
person  belongs  to,  "  we  may  as  well  go  and 
hear  him  lectur  this  evenin.  He  is  one  of 
these  spirit  fellers — he  is  a  Trans-Mejim, 
and  when  he  slings  himself  into  a  trans- 
state,  he  says  the  sperrits  of  departed  great 
men  talk  through  him.  He  says  that  to- 
night sev'ril  em'nent  persons  will  speak 
through  him — among  others,  Cromwell." 

"  And  this  Mr.  Cromwell— is  he  dead  .?  " 
said  the  lan'lord. 

I  told  him  that  Oliver  was  no  more. 

"  It's  a  umbug,"  said  the  lan'lord ;  to  which 
I  replied  that  we'd  best  go  and  see,  and  we 
went.  We  was  late,  on  account  of  the 
lan'lord's  extensiv  acquaintans  with  the  pub- 
lic house  keepers  along  the  road,  and  the 
hall  was  some  two  miles  distant,  but  we 
got  there  at  last.  The  hall  was  about  half 
full,  and  the  Mejim  was  just  then  assumin' 
to  be  Benjamin  r'ranklin,  who  was  speakin 
about  the  Atlantic  Cable. 

I  le  said  the  Cable  was  really  a  merry- 
torious  affair,  and  that  messiges  could  be 
sent  to  America,  and   there  was  no   doubt 


THE  GREEKLION  AKD    OLIVER    CROMWELL.    33 

about  their  gettin  there  in  the  course  of  a 
week  or  two,  which  he  said  was  a  beautiful 
idear,  and  much  quicker  than  by  steamer 
or  canal-boat.  It  struck  me  that  if  this  was 
Franklin  a  spiritooal  life  hadn't  improved 
the  old  gentleman's  intellecks  particly. 

The  audiens  was  mostly  composed  of 
rayther  pale  peple,  whose  eyes  I  tho't  rolled 
round  in  a  somewhat  wild  manner.  But 
they  was  well-behaved,  and  the  females 
kept  saying,  "  How  beautiful !  What  a 
surblime  thing  it  is,"  et  cetry,  et  cetry. 
Amonsf  the  females  was  one  who  was  a 
fair  and  rosy  young  woman.  She  sot  on 
the  same  seat  we  did,  and  the  lan'lord  of 
the  Greenlion,  whose  frekent  intervoos  with 
other  lan'lords  that  evenin  had  been  too 
much  for  him,  fastened  his  left  eye  on  the 
fair  and  rosy  young  person,  and  smilin  lov- 
inly  upon  her,  said,  "  You  may  give  me, 
my  dear,  four-penny-worth  of  gin — cold 
gin.     I  take  it  cold,  because " 

There  was  cries  of  "Silence!    Shame! 
Put  him  out!  the  Skoffer!"- 

"  Ain't  we  at  the   Spotted    Boar .?  "    the 
lan'lord  hoarsely  whispered. 


34    THE  GREEKLION  AND    OLIVER    CROMWELL. 

"  No,"  I  answered,  "  It's  another  kind 
of  bore.  Lis'en.  Cromwell  is  goin'  to 
speak  through  our  inspired  fren',  now." 

"  Is  he  ?  "  said  the  lan'lord — "  is  he  ? 
Wall,  I've  suthin  to  say,  also.  Was  this 
Cromwell  a  licensed  vittler.^*" 

"  Not  that  I  ever  heard,"  I  anserd. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  that,"  said  the  lan'lord 
with  a  sigh  ;  "  but  you  thi-nk  he  was  a  man 
who  would  wish  to  see  licensed  vittlers  re- 
spected in  tb.cir  rights.'*" 

"  No  doubt." 

"  Wall,"  said  the  lan'lord,  "jest  you  keep 
a  eye  on  me."  Then  risin  to  his  feet  he 
said,  in  a  somewhat  husky  yet  tol'bly  distink 
voice,  "  Mr.  Crumbwell!" 

"  Cromwell !  "  I  cried. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Cromwell :  that's  the  man  I 
mean,  Mr.  Cromble !  won't  you  please  ad- 
vise that  gcnTman  who  you're  talkin 
through  ;  won't  you  advise  'im  during  your 
elekant  sjDccch  to  settle  his  bill  at  my  'ouse 
to-night,  Mr.  Crumbles,"  said  the  lan'lord, 
glarin'  savigcly  round  on  the  peple,  "be- 
cause if  he  don't,  there'll  l)e  a  i)unched  'ed 
to  be  seen  at  the  Greenlion,  where  I  don't 


THE  GREENLION  AND    OLIVER   CROMWELL.    35 

want  no  more  of  this  everlastin  nonsens. 
ni  talk  through  'im !  Here's  a  sperrit," 
said  the  lan'lord,  a  smile  once  more  beamin 
on  his  face,  "which  will  talk  through  him 
like  a  Dutch  father !  Fm  the  sperrit  for 
you,  young  feller!"  "You're  a  helthy  old 
sperret,"  I  remarkt ;  and  then  I  saw  the 
necessity  of  gettin  him  out  of  the  hall. 
The  wimin  was  yellin  and  screamin,  and 
the  men  was  hollerin'  perlice.  A  perlice- 
man  really  came  and  collerd  my  fat  fren. 
"  It's  only  a  fit,  Sir  Richard,"  I  said.  I  al- 
ways call  the  perlice  Rir  Richard.  It  pleases 
them  to  think  I'm  the  victim  of  a  deloo- 
sion ;  and  they  always  treat  me  perlitely. 
This  one  did,  certainly,  for  he  let  us  go. 
We  saw  no  more   of  the  Trans-Mejim. 

It's  dififikilt,  of  course,  to  say  how  long 
these  noosances  will  be  allowed  to  prowl 
round.  I  should  say,  however,  if  pressed 
for  a  answer,  that  they  will  prob'ly  continncr 
on  jest  about  as  long  as  they  can  find  peple 
to  lis'en  to  'em.     Am  I  right  ? 

Yours,  faithfull, 

Artemus  Ward. 


36  AT  THE  TOMB   OF  SHAKSFEARE. 


IV. 

AT   THE    TOMB    OF    SHAKSPEARE. 

Mr.  Punch,  My  dear  Sir, — I've  been 
Ungerin  by  the  Tomb  of  the  lamentid 
Shakspeare. 

It  is  a  success. 

I  do  not  hcs'tatc  to  pronounce  it  as  such. 

You  may  make  any  use  of  this  opinion 
that  you  see  fit  If  you  think  its  publication 
will  suJDswcrvc  the  cause  of  litteratoor,  you 
may  publicate  it. 

I  told  my  wife  Betsy  when  I  Teft  home 
that  I  sliould  go  to  the  birthplace  of  the 
orlhur  of  Ot heller  and  other  Plays.  She 
said  that  as  long  as  I  kept  out  of  Newgate 
she  didn't  care  where  I  went  "  But,"  I  said, 
"don't  you  know  he  was  (he  greatest  Poit 
that  ever  lived?  Not  one  of  these  common 
poits,  like  thai  young  idyil  wlio  writes  verses 


AT  THE  TOMB    OF  SEAKSPEARE.  37 

to  our  daughter,  about  the  Roses  as  grow- 
ses,  and  the  Breezes  as  blowses  —  but  a 
Boss  Poit — also  a  philosopher,  also  a  man 
who  knew  a  great  deal  about  everything." 

She  was  packing  my  things  at  the  time, 
and  the  only  answer  she  made  was  to  ask 
me  if  I  was  goin  to  carry  both  of  my  red 
flannel  night  caps. 

Yes.  I've  been  to  Stratford  onto  the 
Avon,  the  Birthplace  of  Shakspeare.  Mr. 
S.  is  now  no  more.  He's  been  dead  over 
three  hundred  {^00)  years.  The  peple  of 
his  native  town  are  justly  proud  of  him. 
They  cherish  his  mem'ry,  and  them  as  sell 
picturs  of  his  birthplace,  &c.,  make  it  prof- 
tible  cherisin  it.  Almost  everybody  buys 
a  pictur  to  put  into  their  Albiom. 

As  I  stood  gazing  on  the  spot  where 
Shakspeare  is  s'posed  to  have  fell  down 
on  the  ice  and  hurt  hisself  when  a  boy, 
(this  spot  cannot  be  bought  —  the  town 
authorities  say  it  shall  never  be  taken  from 
Stratford)  I  wondered  if  three  hundred 
years  hence  picturs  of  my  birthplace  will 
be  in  demand?  Will  the  peple  of  my  na- 
tive town  be  proud  of  me  in  three  hundred 


38  AT  THE  TOMB   OF  SHAKSPEARE. 

years  ?  I  guess  they  won't  short  of  that  time 
because  they  say  the  fat  man  weighing 
looo  pounds  which  I  exhibited  there  was 
stufted  out  with  pillers  and  cushions,  which 
lie  said  one  very  hot  day  in  July,  "Oh 
bother,  I  can't  stand  this,"  and  commenced 
pulHn  the  pillers  out  from  under  his  weskit, 
and  heavin  'em  at  the  audience.  I  never 
saw  a  man  lose  flesh  so  fast  in  my  life.  The 
audience  said  I  was  a  pretty  man  to  come 
chisclin  my  own  townsmen  in  that  way. 
I  said,  "  Do  not  be  angry,  feller-citizens. 
I  exhibited  him  simply  as  a  work  of  art.  I 
simply  wished  to  show  you  that  a  man 
could  grow  fat  without  the  aid  of  cod-liver 
oil."  Hut  they  wouldn't  listen  to  me. 
They  are  a  low  and  grovelin  set  of  peple, 
who  excite  a  feelin  of  loathin  in  every  brest 
where  lorfty  emotions  and  .original  idees 
have  a  bid  in  ])lace. 

I  stopped  at  Leamington  a  few  mi  nits  on 
my  way  lo  Stratford  onto  the  Avon,  and  a 
very  beautiful  town  it  is.  I  went  into  a 
shoe  shop  to  make  a  ])urchis,  and  as  I  en- 
tered I  saw  over  the  door  those  dear  familiar 
words,  "  By  Appintmcnt :    1 1.  R.  li. ;  "  and 


AT  THE  TOMB   OF  SJIAKSPEARE.  39 

I  said  to  the  man,  "  Squire,  excuse  mc,  but 
this  is  too  much.  I  have  seen  in  London 
four  hundred  boot  and  shoe  shops  by  Ap- 
pintment:  H.  R.  H. ;  and  now  yoiirc  at  it. 
It  is  simply  onpossible  that  the  Prince  can 
wear  400  pairs  of  boots.  Don't  tell  me, " 
I  said,  in  a  voice  choked  with  emotion — 
"  Oh,  do  not  tell  me  that  you  also  make 
boots  for  him.  Say  slippers — say  that  you 
mend  a  boot  now  and  then  for  him ;  but 
do  not  tell  me  that  you  make  'em  reg'lar 
for  him." 

The  man  smilt,  and  said  I  didn't  under- 
stand these  things.  He  said  I  perhaps 
had  not  noticed  in  London  that  dealers  in 
all  sorts  of  articles  was  By  Appintment. 
I  said,  "  Oh,  hachit  I .?  Then  a  sudden 
thouo-ht  flasht  over  me.  "  I  have  it !  "  I  said. 
"  When  the  Prince  walks  through  a  street, 
he  no  doubt  looks  at  the  shop  windows." 

The  man  said,  "  No  doubt." 

"  And  the  enterprisin  tradesman,"  I  con- 
tinnerd,  "  the  moment  the  Prince  gets  out 
of  sight,  rushes  frantically  and  has  a  tin 
sign  painted.  By  Appintment,  H.  R.  H. ! 
It  is  a  beautiful,  a  great  idee ! " 


40  AT  THE  TOMB    OF  SHAKSPEARE. 

I  then  bought  a  pair  of  shoe  strings,  and 
wringin    the    shopman's    honest    hand,     I 
started  for  the  Tomb  of  Shakspeare  in  a  . 
hired  fly.      It  look't  however  more  Hke  a 
spider. 

"And  this,"  I  said,  as  I  stood  in  the  old 
church-yard  at  Stratford,  beside  a  Tomb- 
stone, "  this  marks  the  spot  where  lies 
William  W.  Shakspeare.  Alars !  and  this 
is  the  spot  where — " 

"  You've  got  the  wrong  grave, "  said  a 
man — a  worthy  villager :  Shakspeare  is 
buried  inside  the  church." 

"  Oh, "  I  said,  "  a  boy  told  me  this  was 
it."  The  boy  larfed  and  put  the  shillin 
I'd  given  him  into  his  left  eye  in  a  inglori- 
ous manner,  and  commenced  moving  back- 
wards towards  the  street. 

I  pursood  and  captered  him,  and  after 
talking  to  him  a  spell  in  a  skarcastic  stile, 
I  let  him  went. 

The  old  church  was  damp  and  chill.  It 
was  rainin.  The  only  i)ersons  there  when 
I  entered  was  a  fine  bluff  old  gentleman  who 
was  talking  in  a  excited  manner  to  a  fash- 
nibly    dros.scd    )()iiiig    man.     "No,    I'^rncst 


AT  THE  TOMB   OF  SnAKSPEARE.  41 

Montresser,"  the  old  gentleman  said,  "  it  is 
idle  to  pursoo  this  subjeck  no  further.  You 
can  never  marry  my  daughter.  You  were 
seen  last  Monday  in  Piccadilly  without  a 
umbreller !  I  said  then,  as  I  say  now,  any 
young  man  as  venturs  out  in  a  uncertain 
climit  like  this  without  a  umbreller,  lacks 
foresight,  caution,  strength  of  mind  and 
stability ;  and  he  is  not  a  proper  person  to 
intrust  a  daughter's  happiness  to. " 

I  slapt  the  old  gentleman  on  the  shoul- 
der, and  I  said,  "  You're  right !  You're 
one  of  those  kind  of  men,  you  are " 

He  wheeled  suddenly  round,  and  in  a 
indignant  voice,  said,  "  Go  way — go  way ! 
This  is  a  privit  intervoo." 

I  didn't  stop  to  enrich  the  old  gentle- 
man's mind  with  my  conversation.  I  sort 
of  inferred  that  he  wasn't  inclined  to  listen 
to  me,  and  so  I  went  on.  But  he  was  right 
about  the  umbreller.  I'm  really  delighted 
with  this  grand  old  countr}^  Mr.  Pnnch, 
but  you  must  admit  that  it  does  rain  rayther 
numerously  here.  Whether  this  is  owing  to 
a  monerkal  form  of  gov'ment  or  not,  I  leave 
all  candid  and  onprejudiced  persons  to  say. 


42  AT  THE  TOMB   OF  SHAKSPEARE. 

William  Shakspeare  was  born  in  Strat- 
ford in  1564.  All  the  commentaters,  Shak- 
spcrian  scholars,  etsetry,  are  agreed  on  this, 
which  is  about  the  only  thing  they  are 
agreed  on  in  regard  to  him,  except  that  his 
mantle  hasn't  fallen  onto  any  poet  or  dra- 
matist hard  enough  to  hurt  said  poet  or 
dramatist  imic/i.  And  there  is  no  doubt  if 
these  commentaters  and  persons  continner 
investigatin  Shakspeare's  career,  we  shall 
not,  in  doo  time,  know  anything  about  it  at 
all.  When  a  mere  lad  litUe  William  at- 
tended the  Grammer  School,  because,  as  he 
said,  the  Grammer  School  wouldn't  attend 
him.  This  remarkable  remark,  comin  from 
one  so  young  and  inexperunced,  set  pcple 
to  Ihinkin  there  might  be  somethin  in  this 
lad.  He  subsequently  wrote  Hamlet  and 
Gcorj^c  Barnwell.  When  his  kind  teacher 
went  to  London  to  accept  a  position  in  the 
offices  of  the  Metropolitan  Railway,  little 
William  was  chosen  by  his  fellow  pupils  to 
deliver  a  farewell  aclclrcss.  "Go  on.  Sir," 
he  said,  "  in  a  glorus  career.  Be  like  a 
eagle,  and  soar,  and  the  soarer  you  get  the 
more  we  shall  all  be  gratified!     That's  so." 


AT  THE  TOMB    OF  SHAKSPEARE.  43 

My  young  readers,  who  wish  to  know 
about  Shakspeare,  better  get  these  vallyable 
remarks  framed. 

I  returned  to  the  hotel  Meetin  a  young 
married  couple,  they  asked  me  if  I  could 
direct  them  to  the  hotel  which  Washington 
Irving  used  to  keep  ? 

"  I've  understood  that  he  was  onsuccess- 
ful  as  a  lan'lord,"  said  the  lady. 

"  We've  understood,"  said  the  young 
man,  "  that  he  busted  up." 

I  told  'em  I  was  a  stranger,  and  hurried 
away.  They  were  from  my  country,  and 
ondoubtedly  represented  a  thrifty  He  well 
somewhere  in  Pennsylvany.  It's  a  com- 
mon thing,  by  the  way,  for  a  old  farmer  in 
Pennsylvany  to  wake  up  some  mornin  and 
find  ile  squirtin  all  around  his  back  yard. 
He  sells  out  for  'normous  price,  and  his 
children  put  on  gorgeous  harness  and  start 
on  a  tower  to  astonish  peple.  Tliey  suc- 
ceed in  doin  it.  Meantime  the  lie  it  squirts 
and  squirts,  and  Time  rolls  on.  Let  it 
roll. 

A  very  nice  old  town  is  Stratford,  and  a 
capital  inn  is  the  Red  Horse.     Every  ad- 


44  ^T"  TEE  TOMB   OF  SEAKSPEARR 

mirer  of  the  great  S.  must  go  there  once 
certinly ;  and  to  say  one  isn't  a  admirer  of 
him,  is  equv'lent  to  sayin  one  has  jest  about 
brains  enough  to  become  a  efficient  tinker. 

Some  kind  person  has  sent  me  Chaw- 
ccr's  poems.  Mr.  C  had  talent,  but  he 
coukhi't  spel.  No  man  has  a  right  to  be  a 
lit'rary  man  onless  he  knows  how  to  spek 
It  is  a  pity  that  Chawcer,  who  had  geneyus, 
was  so  unedicated.  He's  the  wuss  speller 
I  know  of. 

I  guess  I'm  through,  and  so   I  lay  down 

the  pen,  which  is  more  mightier  than  the 

sword,  but  which  km  fraid  would  stand  a 

rayther  slim  chance  beside  the  needle  gun. 

Adoo !   adoo ! 

Artemus  Ward. 


IS  INTRODUCED  AT  TEE   CLUB.  45 


V. 

IS    INTRODUCED    AT   THE    CLUB. 

Mr.  Punch,  My  dear  Sir, — It  is  seldim 
that  the  Commercial  relations  between 
Great  Britain  and  the  United  States  is 
mar'd  by  Games. 

It  is  Commerce,  after  all,  which  will  keep 
the  two  countries  friendly  to'ards  each  other 
rather  than  statesmen. 

I  look  at  your  last  Parliament,  and  I  can't 

see  that  a  single  speech  was  encored  during 

the  entire  session. 

Look    at  Congress — but  no,    I'd  rather 

not  look  at  Congress. 

Entertainin  this  great  regard  for  Com- 
merce "  whose  sales  whiten  every  sea,"  as 
ever3^body  happily  observes  every  chance 
he  gets,  I  learn  with  disgust  and  surprise 
that  a  British  subjeck  bo't  a  Barril  of  Apple 


46  IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE  CLUB. 

Sass  in  America  recently,  and  when  he  ar- 
rove  home  he  found  under  a  few  deloosiv 
layers  of  sass  noUiin  but  saw-dust.  I  should 
have  instantly  gone  into  the  City  and  called 
a  mcetin  of  the  leadin  commercial  men  to 
condem  and  repudiate,  as  a  American,  this 
gross  frawd,  if  I  hadn't  learned  at  the  same 
time  that  the  draft  given  by  the  British  sub- 
jeck  in  payment  for  this  frawdylent  sass 
was  drawd  onto  a  Bankin  House  in  London 
which  doesn't  have  a  existence,  but  far 
otherwise,  and  never  did. 

There  is  those  who  larf  at  these  things, 
but  to  me  they  merit  rebooks  and  frowns. 

With  the  exception  of  my  Uncle  Wilyim 
— who,  as  I've  before  stated,  is  a  uncle  by 
marrige  only,  who  is  a  low  cuss  and  filled 
his  coat  pockets  with  pics  and  bilcd  eggs 
at  his  wcddin  breakfast,  given  to  him  by 
my  father,  and  made  the  clergyman  as 
united  him  a  present  of  my  father's  new 
overcoat,  and  when  my  father  on  discoverin 
it  got  in  a  rage  and  denounced  him,  Uncle 
Wilyim  said  the  old  man  (meanin  my  par- 
ent) hadn't  any  idee  of  first-class  Humer! 
— with    the    exception    of    this    wretched 


JS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE   CLUB.  4/ 

Uncle,  the  escutchin  of  my  fam'ly  has 
never  been  stained  by  Games.  The  Httle 
harmless  deceptions  I  resort  to  in  my  per- 
feshion  I  do  not  call  Games.  They  are 
sacrifisses  to  Art. 

I  come  of  a  very  clever  fam'ly. 

The  Wards  is  a  very  clever  fam'ly,  indeed. 

I  believe  we  are  descendid  from  the  Pu- 
ritins,  who  nobly  fled  from  a  land  of  despi- 
tism  to  a  land  of  freedim,  where  they  could 
not  only  enjoy  their  own  religion,  but  pre- 
vent everybody  else  from  enjoyin  kis. 

As  I  said  before,  we  are  a  very  clever 
fam'ly. 

I  was  strollin  up  Regent  Street  the  other 
day,  thinkin  what  a  clever  fam'ly  I  come 
of,  and  looking  at  the  gay  shop-winders. 
I've  got  some  new  close  since  you  last  saw 
me.  I  saw  them  others  wouldn't  do.  They 
carrid  the  observer  too  far  back  into  the 
dim  vister  of  the  past,  and  I  gave  'em  to 
a  Orfun  Asylum.  The  close  I  wear  now 
I  bo't  of  Mr.  Moses,  in  the  Commercial 
Road.  They  was  expressly  made,  Mr.  Mo- 
ses informed  me,  for  a  nobleman,  but  as 
they  fitted  him   too  muchly,  partic'ly  the 


48  IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE  CLUB. 

trows'rs  (which  is  bkie,  with  large  red 
and  white  checks)  he  had  said,  "  My  dear 
feller,  make  me  some  more,  only  mind — 
be  sure  you  sell  these  to  some  genteel  old 
feller. " 

I  like  to  saunter  thro'  Regent  Street. 
The  shops  are  pretty,  and  it  does  the  old 
man's  heart  good  to  see  the  troops  of  fine 
healthy  girls  which  one  may  always  see 
there  at  certain  hours  in  the  afternoon,  who 
don't  spile  their  beauty  by  devourin  cakes 
and  sugar  things,  as  too  many  of  the  Ame- 
rican and  French  lasses  do.  It's  a  mistake 
about  everybody  being  out  of  town,  I  guess. 
Regent  Street  is  full.  Tm  here;  and,  as  I 
said  before,  I  come  of  a  very  clever  fam'ly. 

As  I  was  walkin  along,  amoosin  myself 
by  stickin  my  penkife  into  the  calves  of  the 
footnu'ii  who  stood  waitin  by  the  swell- 
coaches  (not  one  of  whom  howled  with  an- 
gwish),  I  was  accosted  by  a  man  of  about 
thirty-five  summers,  who  said,  "  I  have  seen 
thftit  face  somewheres  afore  !  " 

I  le  was  a  little  shabby  in  his  wearin  ap- 
paiil.  llis  coat  was  one  of  those  black, 
.siiiny  garments,  which  you  can  always  tell 


Artemus    Ward    as    Capting    of    the     Home     Guards — See 


IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE  CLUB.  49 

have  been  burnished  by  adversity ;  but  he 
was  very  gentlemanly. 

"  Was  it  in  the  Crimea,  comrade  ?  Yes, 
it  was.  It  was  at  the  stormin  of  Sebasto- 
pol,  where  I  had  a  narrow  escape  from 
death,  that  we  met !  " 

I  said,  "  No,  I  wasn't  at  Sebastopol,  I 
escaped  a  fatal  wound  by  not  bein  there. 
It  was  a  healthy  old  fortress, "  I  added. 

"  It  was.  But  it  fell.  It  came  down  with 
a  crash." 

"  And  plucky  boys  they  was  who  brought 
her  down, "  I  added  ;  "  and  hurrah  for  'em !  " 

The  man  graspt  me  warmly  by  the  hand, 
and  said  he  had  been  in  America,  Upper 
Canada,  Africa,  Asia  Minor,  and  other 
towns,  and  he'd  never  met  a  man  he  liked 
as  much  as  he  did  me.  "  Let  us,"  he  ad- 
ded, "let  us  to  the  shrine  of  Bachus!" 
And  he  dragged  me  into  a  public  house. 
I  was  determined  to  pay,  so  I  said,  "Mr. 
Bachus,  giv  this  gen'l'man  what  he  calls 
for." 

We  conversed  there  in  a  very  pleasant 
manner  till  my  dinner-time  arrove,  when 
the   agree'ble   gentleman    insisted    that    I 


50  IS  IXTRODUCED  AT  THE   CLUB. 

should  dine  with  him.  "  We'll  have  a  ban- 
quet, Sir,  fit  for  the  gods  !  " 

I  told  him  good  plain  vittles  would  soot 
me.  If  the  srods  wanted  to  have  the  dis- 
pepsy,  they  was  welcome  to  it. 

We  had  soop  and  fish,  and  a  hot  jint,  and 
growsis,  and  wines  of  rare  and  costly  vintige. 
We  had  ices,  and  we  had  froots  from  Green- 
land's icy  mountins  and  Injy's  coral  strands  ; 
and  when  the  sumptoous  reparst  was  over, 
the  agree'ble  man  said  he'd  unfortnitly  left 
his  pocket-book  at  home  on  the  marble 
center-table.  "  But,  by  Jove  !  "  he  said,  "  it 
was  a  feast  fit  for  the  srods !  " 

I  said,  "  Oh,  never  mind,"  and  drew  out 
my  jDuss ;  tho'  I  in'ardly  wished  the  gods, 
as  the  dinner  was  fit  for  'em,  was  there  to 
l)ay  for  it. 

I  come  of  a  very  clever  fam'l)^ 

The  agree'ble  gentleman  then  said, 
"Now,  I  will  show  you  our  Club.  It  dates 
back  to  the  time  of  William  the  Con- 
queror." 

"  I)i(l  r.ill  belong  to  it?"    I  in(|ulrcd. 

"lie  did." 

"Wall,"  I  said,  "if  Billy  was  one  of 'cm, 


IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE   CLUB.  $1 

I  need  no  other  endorsement  as  to  its  re- 
spectfulness, and  I'll  go  with  you,  my  gay 
trooper  boy ! "  And  we  went  off  arm-in- 
arm. 

On  the  way  the  agree'ble  man  told  me 
that  the  Club  was  called  the  Sloshers.  He 
said  I  would  notice  that  none  of  'em  ap- 
peared in  evenin  dress.  He  said  it  was 
agin  the  rools  of  the  club.  In  fack,  if 
any  member  appeared  there  in  evenin  dress 
he'd  be  instantly  expeld.  "And  yit,"  he 
added,  "  there's  geneyus  there,  and  lorfty 
emotions,  and  intelleck.  You'll  be  sur- 
prised at  the  quantities  of  intelleck  you'll 
see  there." 

We  reached  the  Sloshers  in  due  time, 
and  I  must  say  they  was  a  shaky-looking 
lot,  and  the  public  house  where  they  con- 
vened was  certingly  none  of  the  best. 

The  Sloshers  crowded  round  me,  and  said 
I  was  welcome.  "  What  a  beautiful  brest- 
pin  you've  got,"  said  one  of  'em.  "  Permit 
me,"  and  he  took  it  out  of  my  neckercher. 
"  Isn't  it  luvly,"  he  said,  parsin  it  to  another, 
who  passed  it  to  another.  It  was  given 
me  by  my  Aunt,  on  my  promisin  her  I'd 


52  IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE  CLUB. 

never  swear  profanely;  and  I  never  have, 
except  on  very  special  occasions.  I  see 
that  beautiful  boosum  pin  a  parsin  from 
one  Slosher  to  another,  and  I'm  reminded 
of  them  sad  words  of  the  poit,  "parsin 
away !  parsin  away ! "  I  never  saw  it  no 
more.  Then  in  comes  a  athletic  female, 
who  no  sooner  sees  me  than  she  utters  a 
wild  yell,  and  cries : 

"  At  larst !  at  larst !  My  Wilyim,  from  the 
seas ! 

I  said,  "  Not  at  all,  Marm.  Not  on  no 
account.  I  have  heard  the  boatswain  pipe 
to  quarters — but  a  voice  in  my  heart  didn't 
whisper  Seu-zan  !  I've  belayed  the  marlin- 
spikes  on  thcuj)pcr  jibpoop,  but  Scu-zan's 
eye  wasn't  on  me,  much.  Young  woman,  I 
am  not  you're  Saler  boy.    Far  different." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  are ! "  she  howled,  seizin 
me  round  llic  neck.  "Oh,  how  I've  lookt 
forwards  to  this  meetin  !  " 

"  And  you'll  presently,"  I  said,  "  have 
a  ojjportunity  of  lookin  backwards  to  it, 
because  I'm  on  the  })()int  of  leavin  this 
institution." 

1  will  here  observe  that  I  come  of  a  very 


IS  INTRODUCED  AT  THE   CLUB.  53 

clever  fam'ly.  A  very  clever  fam'ly,  in- 
deed. 

"  Where,"  I  cried,  as  I  struggled  in  vain 
to  release  myself  from  the  eccentric  female's 
claws,  "  where  is  the  Capting — the  man 
who  was  into  the  Crimea,  amidst  the  can- 
non's thunder?     I  want  him." 

He  came  forward,  and  cried,  "  What  do 
I  see.?  Me  Sister!  me  sweet  Adulaide! 
and  in  teers  !  Willin ! "  he  screamed,  "  and 
you're  the  serpent  I  took  to  my  boosum, 
and  borrowed  money  of,  and  went  round 
with,  and  was  cheerful  with,  are  you  ? — 
You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

Somehow  my  coat  was  jerked  off,  the 
brest-pocket  of  which  contained  my  pocket- 
book,  and  it  parsed  away  like  the  brestpin. 
Then  they  sorter  quietly  hustled  me  into 
the  street. 

It  was  about  1 2  at  night  when  I  reached 
the  Greenlion. 

"Ha!  ha!  you  sly  old  rascal,  you've 
been  up  to  larks ! "  said  the  lan'lord,  larhn 
loudly,  and  digging  his  fist  into  my  ribs. 

I  said,  "  Bigsby,  if  you  do  that  agin,  I 
shall  hit  you !     Much  as  I  respect  you  and 


54  IS  INTRODUCED  AT  TEE  CLUB. 

your  excellent  fam'ly,  I  shall  disfigger  your 
beneverlent  countenance  for  life  !  " 

"  What  has  ruffled  your  spirits,  friend  ?  " 
said  the  Ian 'lord. 

"My  spirits  has  been  ruffled,"  I  ansered 
in  a  bittur  voice,  "  by  a  viper  who  was  into 
the  Crimea.  What  good  was  it,"  I  cried,  "  for 
Sebastopol  to  fall  down  without  enwelopin 
in  its  ruins  that  viper  ?  " 

I  then  went  to  bed.  I  come  of  a  very 
clever  fam'ly. 

Artemus  Ward. 


THE  TOWER   OF  LONDON.  55 


VI. 

THE   TOWER    OF    LONDON. 

Mr.  Punch,  my  dear  Sir, — I  skurcely 
need  inform  you  that  your  excellent  Tower 
is  very  pop'lar  with  peple  from  the  agricul- 
tooral  districks,  and  it  was  chiefly  them 
class  which  I  found  waitin  at  the  gates  the 
other  mornin. 

I  saw  at  once  that  the  Tower  was  estab- 
lished on  a  firm  basis.  In  the  entire  his- 
tory of  firm  basisis  I  don't  find  a  basis  more 
firmer  than  this  one. 

"  You  have  no  Tower  in  America  ?"  said 
a  man  in  the  crowd,  who  had  somehow  de- 
tected my  denomination. 

"  Alars  !  no,"  I  anserd  ;  "  we  boste  of  our 
enterprise  and  improovments,  and  yit  we 
are  devoid  of  a  Tower.  America,  oh  my 
onhappy  country  !  thou  hast  not  got  no 
Tower!     It's  a  sweet  Boon." 


56  THE  TOWER   OF  LONDON. 

The  gates  was  opened  after  awhile,  and 
we  all  purchist  tickets,  and  went  into  a 
waitin-room. 

"  My  frens,"  said  a  pale-faced  little  man, 
in  black  close,  "  this  is  a  sad  day." 

"  Inasmuch  as  to  how  ?  "  I  said. 

"  I  mean  it  is  sad  to  think  that  so  many 
peple  have  been  killed  within  these  gloomy 
walls.     My  frens,  let  us  drop  a  tear ! " 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  you  must  excuse  me. 
Others  may  drop  one  if  they  feel  like  it ; 
but  as  for  me,  I  decline.  The  early  mana- 
gers of  this  institootion  were  a  bad  lot,  and 
their  crimes  were  trooly  orful ;  but  I  can't 
sob  for  those  who  died  four  or  five  hundred 
years  ago.  If  they  was  my  own  relations 
I  couldn't.  It's  absurd  to  shed  sobs  over 
things  which  occurd  durin  the  rain  of 
Henry  the  Three.  Let  us  be  cheerful,"  I 
continnerd.  "  Look  at  the  festiv  Warders, 
in  their  red  flannil  jackets.  They  are 
cheerful,  and  why  should  it  not  be  thusly 
with  us  ?  " 

A  Warder  now  took  us  in  charge,  and 
showed  us  the  Trater's  Gate,  the  armers, 
and  things.     The   Trater's    Gate    is   wide 


TEE  TOWER   OF  LONDON.  $7 

enuff  to  admit  about  twenty  traters  abrest, 
I  should  jedge ;  but  beyond  this,  I  couldn't 
see  that  it  was  superior  to  gates  in  gen'ral. 

Traters,  I  will  here  remark,  are  a  onfort- 
nit  class  of  peple.  If  they  wasn't,  they 
wouldn't  be  traters.  They  conspire  to  bust 
up  a  country — they  fail,  and  they're  traters. 
They  bust  her,  and  they  become  statesmen 
and  heroes. 

Take  the  case  of  Gloster,  afterwards  Old 
Dick  the  Three,  who  may  be  seen  at  the 
Tower,  on  horseback,  in  a  heavy  tin  over- 
coat— take  Mr.  Gloster's  case.  Mr.  G.  was 
a  conspirater  of  the  basist  dye,  and  if  he'd 
failed,  he  would  have  been  hung  on  a  sour 
apple  tree.  But  Mr.  G.  succeeded,  and  be- 
came great.  He  was  slewd  by  Col.  Rich- 
mond, but  he  lives  in  histry,  and  his  eques- 
trian figger  may  be  seen  daily  for  a  six- 
pence, in  conjunction  with  other  em'nent 
persons,  and  no  extra  charge  for  the  War- 
der's able  and  bootiful  lectur. 

There's  one  king  in  this  room   who  is 

mounted    onto  a  foamin  steed,    his    right 

hand  graspin  a  barber's  pole.     I  didn't  learn 

his  name. 

3* 


58  THE  TOWER    OF  LONDON. 

The  room  where  the  daggers  and  pistils 
and  other  weppins  is  kept  is  interestin* 
Among  this  collection  of  choice  cuttlery  I 
notist  the  bow  and  arrer  which  those  hot- 
heded  old  chaps  used  to  conduct  battles 
with.  It  is  quite  like  the  bow  and  arrer 
used  at  this  day  by  certin  tribes  of  Ameri- 
can Injuns,  and  they  shoot  'em  off  with  such 
a  excellent  precision  that  I  almost  sigh'd  to 
be  a  Injun,  when  I  was  in  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tin  regin.  They  are  a  pleasant  lot  them 
Injuns.  Mr.  Cooper  and  Dr.  Catlin  have 
told  us  of  the  red  man's  wonerful  eloquence, 
and  I  found  it  so.  Our  party  was  stopt  on 
the  plains  of  Utah  by  a  band  of  Shoshones, 
whose  chief  said,  "  Brothers !  the  pale-face 
is  welcome.  Brothers!  the  sun  is  sinkin 
in  the  West,  and  Wa-na-bucky-she  will  soon 
cease  speakin.  Brothers !  the  poor  red 
man  belongs  to  a  race  which  is  fast  be- 
comin  extink."  He  then  whooped  in  a 
shrill  manner,  stole  all  our  blankets  and 
whiskey,  and  fled  to  the  primeval  forest  to 
conceal  his  emotions. 

I  will  remark  here,  while  on  the  subjcck 
of  Injuns,  that  they  arc  in  the  main  a  very 


THE  TOWER   OF  LONDON.  SO 

shaky  set,  with  even  less  sense  than  the 
Fenians,  and  when  I  hear  philanthropists 
bewailin  the  fack  that  every  year  "  carries 
the  noble  red  man  nearer  the  settin  sun,"  I 
simply  have  to  say  I'm  glad  of  it,  tho'  it  is 
rough  on  the  settin  sun.  They  call  you 
by  the  sweet  name  of  Brother  one  minit, 
and  the  next  they  scalp  you  with  their 
Thomashawks.  But  I  wander.  Let  us  re- 
turn to  the  Tower. 

At  one  end  of  the  room  where  the  wep- 
pins  is  kept,  is  a  wax  figger  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  mounted  on  a  fiery  stuffed  boss, 
whose  glass  eye  flashes  with  pride,  and 
whose  red  morocker  nostril  dilates  hawtily, 
as  if  conscious  of  the  royal  burden  he 
bears.  I  have  associated  Elizabeth  with 
the  Spanish  Armady.  She's  mixed  up 
with  it  at  the  Surry  Theatre,  where  Troo  to 
the  Core  is  bein  acted,  and  in  which  a  full 
bally  core  is  introjooced  on  board  the  Span- 
ish Admiral's  ship,  givin  the  audiens  the 
idee  that  he  intends  openin  a  moosic-hall 
in  Plymouth  the  moment  he  conkers  that 
town.  But  a  very  interesting  drammcr  is 
Truo  to  the  Core,  notwitstandin  the  eccen- 


60  THE  TOWER    OF  LOXDOX 

trie  conduck  of  the  Spanish  Admiral ;  and 
very  nice  it  is  in  Queen  Elizabeth  to  make 
Martin  Truegold  a  baronet. 

The  Warder  shows  us  some  instrooments 
of  tortur,  such  as  thumbscrews,  throat-col- 
lars, etc.,  statin  that  these  was  conkerd  from 
the  Spanish  Armady,  and  addin  what  a 
crooil  peple  the  Spaniards  was  in  them 
days — which  clissited  from  a  bright-eyed 
little  girl  of  about  twelve  summers  the  re- 
mark that  she  tho't  it  Ti'as  rich  to  talk  about 
the  crooilty  of  the  Spaniards  usin  thumb- 
screws, when  we  was  in  a  Tower  where  so 
many  poor  peple's  heads  had  been  cut  off. 
This  made  the  Warder  stammer  and  turn 
red. 

I  was  so  pleased  with  the  little  girl's 
brightness  that  I  could  have  kissed  the 
dear  child,  and  I  would  if  she'd  been  six 
years  older. 

I  think  my  companions  intended  makin 
a  day  of  it,  for  they  all  had  sandwiches, 
sassiges,  etc.  The  sad-lookin  man,  who 
had  wanted  us  to  drop  a  tear  afore  we 
started  to  go  round,  lling'd  such  quantities 
of  sassigc  into  his  mouth,  that  I  expected 


THE  TOWER    OF  LONDON.  6 1 

to  see  him  choke  hisself  to  death,  he  said 
to  me,  in  the  Beauchamp  Tower,  where  the 
poor  prisoners  writ  their  onhappy  names 
on  the  cold  walls  "  This  is  a  sad  sight." 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  I  anserd.  "  You're 
black  in  the  face.  You  shouldn't  eat  sas- 
sige  in  public  without  some  rehearsals  be- 
forehand.    You  manage  it  orkwardly." 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  mean  this  sad  room." 

Indeed,  he  was  quite  right.  Tho'  so  long 
ago  all  these  drefful  things  happened,  I  was 
very  glad  to  git  away  from  this  gloomy 
room,  and  go  where  the  rich  and  sparklin 
Crown  Jewils  is  kept.  I  was  so  pleased 
with  the  Queen's  Crown,  that  it  occurd  to 
me  what  a  agree'ble  surprise  it  would  be  to 
send  a  sim'lar  one  home  to  my  wife ;  and  I 
asked  the  Warder  what  was  the  vally  of  a 
good,  well-constructed  Crow^n  like  that. 
He  told  me,  but  on  cypherin  up  with  a 
pencil  the  amount  of  funs  I  have  in  the 
Jint  Stock  Bank,  I  conclooded  I'd  send 
her  a  genteel  silver  watch  instid. 

And  so  I  left  the  Tower.  It  is  a  solid 
and  commandin  edifis,  but  I  deny  that  it  is 
cheerful.     I  bid  it  adoo  without  a  pang. 


62  TEE  TOWER    OF  LOXDON. 

I  was  droven  to  my  hotel  by  the  most 
melancholly  driver  of  a  four-wheeler  that  I 
ever  saw.  He  heaved  a  deep  sigh  as  I 
gave  liim  two  shillings.  "  I'll  give  you  six 
d's  more,"  I  said,  "  if  it  hurts  you  so." 

"  It  isn't  that,"  he  said,  with  a  hart-rendin 
groan,  "  it's  only  a  way  I  have.  My  mind's 
upset  to.-day.  I  at  one  time  tho't  I'd  drive 
you  into  the  Thames.  I've  been  readin  all 
the  daily  papers  to  try  and  understand 
about  Governor  Ayre,  and  my  mind  is  tot- 
terin.  It's  really  wonderful  I  didn't  drive 
you  into  the  Thames." 

I  asked  the  onhappy  man  what  his 
number  was,  so  I  could  redily  find  him 
in  case  I  should  want  him  agin,  and  bad 
him  good-bye.  And  then  I  tho't  what  a 
frollicksume  day  I'd  made  of  it.  * 
Respectably,  &c. 

Artemus  Ward. 


SCIENCE  AND  NATUBAL  BISTORT.  63 


VII. 

SCIENCE   AND   NATURAL   HISTORY. 

Mr.  Punch,  My  dear  Sir, — I  was  a  little 
disapinted  in  not  receivin  a  invitation  to 
jine  in  the  meetins  of  the  Social  Science 
Congress. 

I  don't  exackly  see  how  they  go  on  with- 
out me. 

I  hope  it  wasn't  the  intentions  of  the 
Sciencers  to  exclood  me  from  their  deli- 
brations. 

Let  it  pars.  I  do  not  repine.  Let  us 
remember  Homer.  Twenty  cites  claim  Ho- 
mer dead,  thro'  which  the  livin  Mr.  Homer 
coldn't  have  got  trusted  for  a  sandwich 
and  a  glass  of  bitter  beer,  or  words  to  that 
effeck. 

But  perhaps  it  was  a  oversight.  Certinly 
I  have  been  hosspitably  rec'd  in  this  coun- 


64  SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

try.  Hospitality  has  been  pored  all  over  me. 
At  Liverpool  I  was  asked  to  walk  all  over 
the  docks,  which  are  nine  miles  long ;  and 
I  don't  remember  a  instance  since  my  'rival 
in  London  of  my  gettin  into  a  cab  without 
a  Briton  comin  and  perlitely  shuttin  the 
door  for  me,  and  then  extendin  his  open 
hand  to'ards  me,  in  the  most  frenly  manner 
possible.  Does  he  not,  by  this  simple  yit 
tuchin  gesture,  welcum  me  to  England  .f* 
Doesn't  he  ?  Oh  yes — I  guess  he  doesn't 
he.  And  it's  quite  right  among  two  great 
c6untries  which  speak  the  same  langwidge, 
except  as  regards  H's.  And  I've  been 
allowed  to  walk  round  all  the  streets.  Even 
at  Buckinham  Pallis,  I  told  a  guard  I  wan- 
ted to  walk  round  there,  and  he  said  I  could 
walk  round  there.  I  ascertained  subse- 
quent that  he  referd  to  the  side-walk  instid 
of  the  Pallis — but  I  couldn't  doubt  his  hos- 
spital  feclins. 

I  prc])arcd  a  Essy  on  Animals  to  read 
before  the  Social  Science  mcctins.  It  is  a 
subjeck  I  may  troothfully  say  I  have  suc- 
cessfully wrastled  with.  I  tackled  it  when 
only  nineteen  years  old.     At  that  tender 


SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  niSTORT.  65 

age  I  writ  a  Essy  for  a  lit'ry  Institoot  en- 
titled, "Is  Cats  to  be  Trusted?"  Of  the 
merits  of  that  Essy  it  doesn't  becum  me  to 
speak,  but  I  may  be  excoos'd  formentionin 
that  the  Institoot  parsed  a  resolution  that 
"whether  we  look  upon  the  length  of 
this  Essy,  or  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
written,  we  feel  that  we  will  not  express 
any  opinion  of  it,  and  we  hope  it  will  be 
read  in  other  towns." 

Of  course  the  Essy  I  writ  for  the  Social 
Science  Society  is  a  more  finisheder  pro- 
duction than  the  one  on  Cats,  which  was 
wroten  when  my  mind  was  crood,  and 
afore  I  had  masterd  a  graceful  and  ellygant 
stile  of  composition.  I  could  not  even 
punctooate  my  sentences  proper  at  that 
time,  and  I  observe  with  pane,  on  lookin 
over  this  effort  of  my  yooth,  that  its  beauty 
is  in  one  or  two  instances  mar'd  by  ingram- 
maticisms.  This  was  unexcusable,  and 
I'm  surprised  I  did  it.  A  writer  who  can't 
write  in  a  grammerly  manner  better  shut 
up  shop. 

You  shall  hear  this  Essy  on  Animals. 
Some  day  when  you  have  four  hours  to 


66  SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

spare,  I'll  read  it  to  you.  I  think  you'll 
enjoy  it.  Or,  what  will  be  much  better,  if 
I  may  suggest — omit  all  picturs  in  next 
week's  Ptmch,  and  do  not  let  your  contribu- 
tors write  enything  whatever  (let  them  have 
a  holiday ;  they  can  go  to  the  British  Moo- 
seum;)  and  publish  my  Ess}^  intire.  It 
will  fill  all  your  collumes  full,  and  create 
comment.  Does  this  proposition  strike 
you?    Is  it  a  go? 

In  case  I  had  read  the  Essy  to  the  So- 
cial Sciencers,  I  had  intended  it  should 
be  the  closin  attraction.  I  had  intended 
it  should  finish  the  proceedins.  I  think  it 
would  have  finished  them.  I  understand 
animals  better  than  any  other  class  of  hu- 
man creatures.  I  have  a  very  animal  mind, 
and  I've  been  identified  with  'em  doorin 
my  entire  pcrfessional  career  as  a  show- 
man, more  especial  bears,  wolves,  leopards 
and  serpunts. 

The  leopard  is  as  lively  a  animal  as  I 
ever  came  into  conlack  with.  It  is  troo  he 
cannot  change  his  sjiots,  but  you  can 
change  'cm  for  him  with  a  jDaint-brush,  as 
I  once  die!  in   the  case  of  a  leopard  who 


SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY.  6/ 

wasn't  nat'rally  spotted  in  a  attractive 
manner.  In  exhibitin  him  I  used  to  stir 
him  up  in  his  cage  with  a  protracted  pole, 
and  for  the  purpuss  of  makin  him  yell  and 
kick  up  in  a  leopardy  manner,  I  used 
to  casionally  whack  him  over  the  head. 
This  would  make  the  children  inside  the 
booth  scream  with  fright,  which  would 
make  fathers  of  families  outside  the  booth 
very  anxious  to  come  in — because  there  is 
a  large  class  of  parents  who  have  a  uncon- 
trollable passion  for  takin  their  children  to 
places  were  they  will  stand  a  chance  of  being 
frightened  to  death. 

One  day  I  whacked  this  leopard  more 
than  ushil,  which  elissited  a  remonstrance 
from  a  tall  gentleman  in  spectacles,  who 
said,  "  My  good  man,  do  not  beat  the  poor 
caged  animal.     Rather  fondle  him." 

"I'll  fondle  him  with  a  club,"  I  anserd, 
hitting  him  another  whack. 

"  I  prithy  desist,"  said  the  gentleman ; 
"  stand  aside,  and  see  the  effeck  of  kind- 
ness. I  understand  the  idiosyncracies  of 
these  creeturs  better  than  you  do."  With 
that  he  went  up  to  the  cage,  and  thrustin 


68  SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

his  face  in  between  the  iron  bars,  he  said, 
soothinly,  "  Come  hither,  pretty  creetur." 
The  pretty  creetur  come-hithered  rayther 
speedy,  and  seized  the  gentleman  by  the 
whiskers,  which  he  tore  off  about  enuff  to 
stuff  a  small  cushion  with. 

He  said,  "You  vagabone,  I'll  have  you 
indicted  for  exhibitin  dangerous  and  im- 
moral animals." 

I  replied,  "  Gentle  Sir,  there  isn't  a  ani- 
mal here  that  hasn't  a  beautiful  moral,  but 
you  mustn't  fondle  'em.  You  mustn't 
meddle  with  their  idiotsyncracies." 

T/he  gentleman  was  a  dramatic  cricket, 
and  he  wrote  a  article  for  a  paper,  in  which 
he  said  my  entertainment  was  a  decided 
failure. 

As  regards  Bears,  you  can  teach  'em  to 
do  interestin  things,  but  they're  onreliable. 
I  had  a  very  large  grizzly  bear  once,  who 
would  dance,  and  larf,  and  lay  down,  and 
bow  his  head  in  grief,  and  give  a  mournful 
wale,  etsetry.  But  he  often  annoyed  me. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  on  the  occasion 
of  the  first  battle  of  Bull  Run,  it  suddenly 
occurd  to  the  Fcd'ral  soldiers  that  they  had 


SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY.  69 

business  in  Washington  which  ought  not 
to  be  neglected,  and  they  all  started  for 
that  beautiful  and  romantic  city,  maintainin 
a  rate  of  speed  durin  the  entire  distance 
that  would  have  done  credit  to  the  cele- 
brated French  steed  Gladiateur.  Very 
nat'rally  our  Gov'ment  was  deeply  grieved 
at  this  defeat;  and  I  said  to  my  Bear, 
shortly  after,  as  I  was  givin  a  exhibition  in 
Ohio — I  said,  "Brewin,  are  you  not  sorry 
the  National  arms  has  sustained  a  defeat?" 
His  business  was  to  wale  dismal,  and  bow 
his  head  down,  the  band  (a  barrel  orgin  and 
a  wiolin)  playing  slow  and  melanchoUy 
moosic.  What  did  the  grizzly  old  cuss  do, 
however,  but  commence  darncin  and  larfin 
in  the  most  joyous  manner.  I  had  a  nar- 
ner  escape  from  being  imprisoned  for  dis- 
loyalty. I  will  relate  another  incident  in 
the  career  of  this  retchid  Bear.  I  used  to 
present  what  I  called  in  the  bills  a  Beauti- 
ful living  Pictur — showing  the  Bear's  fond- 
ness for  his  Master :  in  which  I'd  lay  down 
on  a  piece  of  carpeting,  and  the  Bear  would 
come  and  lay  down  beside  me,  restin  his 
right  paw  on  my  breast,  the  Band  playing 


70  SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY. 

" Home,  Sweet  Home"  very  soft  and  slow. 
Altho'  I  say  it,  it  was  a  tuchin  thing  to  see. 
I've  seen  Tax-Collectors  weep  over  that 
performance. 

Well,  one  day  I  said,  "  Ladies  and  Gen- 
tlemen, we  will  now  show  you  the  Bear's 
fondness  for  his  master,"  and  I  went  and 
laid  down.  I  tho't  I  observed  a  pecooliar 
expression  into  his  eyes,  as  he  rolled  clum- 
sily to'ards  me,  but  I  didn't  dream  of  the 
scene  which  follerd.  He  laid  down,  and 
put  his  paw  on  my  breast.  "  Affection  of 
the  bear  for  his  Master,"  I  repeated.  "  You 
see  the  Monarch  of  the  Western  Wilds  in 
a  subjugated  state.  Fierce  as  these  ani- 
mals natrally  are,  we  now  see  that  they 
have  hearts,  and  can  love.  This  Bear,  the 
largest  in  the  world,  and  measurin  seven- 
teen feet  round  the  body,  loves  me  as  a 
mer-ther  loves  her  che-ild!"  But  what 
was  my  horror  when  the  grizzly  and  in- 
famus  Bear  threw  his  other  paw  under  me, 
and  riz  with  me  to  his  feet.  Then  cJaspin 
me  in  a  close  embrace  he  waltzed  up  and 
down  the  platform  in  a  frightful  manner, 
I  yell  in  with  fear  and  anguish.     To  make 


SCIENCE  AND  NATURAL  HISTORY.  7 1 

matters  wuss,  a  low  scurrilus  young  man  in 
the  audiens  hollered  out,  "  Playfulness  of 
the  Bear!  Quick  moosic!"  I  jest  'scaped 
with  my  life.  The  Bear  met  with  a  wiolent 
death  the  next  day,  by  bein  in  the  way 
when  a  hevily  loaded  gun  was  fired  off  by 
one  of  my  men. 

But  you  should  hear  my  Essy  which  I 
wrote  for  the  Social  Science  Meetins.  It 
would  have  had  a  movin  effeck  on  them. 

I  feel  that  I  must  now  conclood. 

I  have  read  Earl  Bright's  speech  at 
Leeds,  and  I  hope  we  shall  now  hear  from 
John  Derby.  I  trust  that  not  only  they, 
but  Wm.  E.  Stanley  and  Lord  Gladstone 
will  cling  inflexibly  to  those  great  funda- 
mental principles,  which  they  understand 
far  better  than  I  do,  and  I  will  add  that  I 
do  not  understand  anything  about  any  of 
them  whatever  in  the  least — and  let  us  all 
be  happy,  and  live  within  our  means,  even 
if  we  have  to  borrer  money  to  do  it  with. 
Very  respectively  yours, 

Artemus  Ward. 


72  A    VISIT  TO   TEE  BRITISH  MUSEUM. 


VIII. 

A   VISIT   TO    THE    BRITISH    MUSEUM. 

Mr.  Punch,  My  dear  Sir, — You  didn't 
get  a  instructiv  article  from  my  pen  last 
week  on  account  of  my  nervus  sistim  havin 
underwent  a  dreffle  shock.  I  got  caught 
in  a  brief  shine  of  sun,  and  it  utterly  upsot 
me.  I  was  walkin  in  Regent  Street  one 
day  last  week,  enjoyin  your  rich  black  fog 
and  bracing  rains,  when  all  at  once  the 
Sun  bust  out  and  actooally  shone  for  near- 
ly half  an  hour  steady.  I  acted  promptly. 
I  called  a  cab  and  told  the  driver  to  run  his 
hoss  at  a  friteful  rate  of  speed  to  my  lodg- 
ins,  but  it  wasn't  of  no  avale.  I  had  orful 
cramps,  my  appytite  left  me,  and  my  jDults 
went  down  to  lo  degrees  below  zero.  But 
by  careful  nussin  I  shall  no  doubt  recover 
speedy,  if  the  present  sparklin  and  exilera- 
tin  weather  continncrs. 


""h  ,~9^^jM^f}- 


Artemus  Ward  visits  the  Tomb  of  Shakspearc  and  make 
slight  mistake — See  page  40. 


A    VISIT  TO   THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM.  73 

[All  of  the  foregoin  is  sarcasum,] 
It's  a  sing'lar  fack,  but  I  never  sot  eyes 
on  your  excellent  British  Mooseum  till  the 
other  day.  I've  sent  a  great  many  peple 
there,  as  also  to  your  genial  Tower  of  Lon- 
don, however.  It  happened  thusly:  When 
one  of  my  excellent  countrymen  jest  ar- 
rived in  London  would  come  and  see  me 
and  display  a  inclination  to  cling  to  me  too 
lengthy,  thus  showin  a  respect  for  me 
which  I  feel  I  do  not  deserve,  I  would  sug- 
jest  a  visit  to  the  Mooseum  and  Tower. 
The  Mooseum  would  ockepy  him  a  day  at 
leest,  and  the  Tower  another.  Thus  I've 
derived  considerable  peace  and  comfort 
from  them  noble  edifisses,  and  I  hope  they 
will  long  continner  to  grace  your  metroplis. 
There's  my  fren  Col.  Larkins,  from  Wis- 
consin, who  I  regret  to  say  understands 
the  Jamaica  question,  and  wants  to  talk 
with  me  about  it ;  I  sent  him  to  the  Tower 
four  days  ago,  and  he  hasn't  got  throogh 
with  it  yit.  He  likes  it  very  much,  and  he 
writes  me  that  he  can't  never  thank  me 
sufficient  for  directin  him  to  so  interestin  a 
bildin.     I  writ  him  not  to  mention  it.    The 

4 


74  -4    VISIT  TO   THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM. 

Col.  says  it  is  fortnit  we  live  in  a  intellec- 
tooal  age  whicli  wouldn't  countenance  such 
infamus  things  as  occurd  in  this  Tower. 
I'm  aware  that  it  is  fashin'ble  to  compli- 
ment this  age,  but  I  ain't  so  clear  that  the 
Col.  is  altogether  right.  This  is  a  very 
respectable  age,  but  it's  pretty  easily  riled ; 
and  considerin  upon  how  slight  a  provyca- 
tion  we  who  live  in  it  go  to  cuttin  each 
other's  throats,  it  may  perhaps  be  doubted 
whether  our  intellecks  is  so  much  massiver 
than  our  ancestors'  intellecks  was,  after  all. 
I  alius  ride  outside  with  the  cabman.  I 
am  of  humble  parentage,  but  I  have  (if  you 
will  permit  me  to  say  so)  the  spirit  of  the 
eagle,  which  chafes  when  shut  up  in  a  four- 
wheeler,  and  I  feel  much  eagler  when  I'm 
in  the  open  air.  So  on  the  mornin  on 
which  I  went  to  the  Mooseum  I  lit  a  pipe, 
and  callin  a  cab,  I  told  the  driver  to  take  me 
there  as  quick  as  his  Arabian  charger  could 
go.  The  driver  was  under  the  inflooence 
of  beer,  and  narrerly  escaped  runnin  over 
a  ao-ed  female  in  the  match  trade,  where- 
upon  I  remonstratid  with  him.  I  said, 
"  That  poor  old  woman  may  be  the  only 


A    VISIT  TO   THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM.  75 

mother  of  a  young  man  like  you."  Then 
throwing  considerable  pathos  into  my 
voice,  I  said,  "  You  have  a  mother  ? " 

He  said,  "You  lie!"  I  got  down  and 
called  anothor  cab,  but  said  nothin  to  this 
driver  about  his  parents. 

The  British  Mooseum  is  a  magnif'cent 
free  show  for  the  people.  It  is  kept  open 
for  the  benefit  of  all. 

The  humble  costymonger,  who  traverses 
the  busy  streets  with  a  cart  containin  all 
kinds  of  vegetables,  such  as  carrots,  tur- 
nips, etc.,  and  drawn  by  a  spirited  jackass — 
he  can  go  to  the  Mooseum  and  reap  bene- 
fits therefrom  as  well  as  the  lord  of  hidi 

O 

degree. 

"And  this,"  I  said,  "is  the  British  Moo- 
seum ! "  These  noble  walls,  "  I  continnerd, 
punching  them  with  my  umbreller  to  see 
if  the  masonry  was  all  right — but  I  wasn't 
allowd  to  finish  my  enthoosiastic  remarks, 
for  a  man  with  a  gold  band  on  his  hat  said, 
in  a  hash  voice,  that  I  must  stop  pokin  the 
walls.  I  told  him  I  would  do  so  by  all 
means.  "  You  see,"  I  said,  taking  hold  of 
the  tassel  which  waved  from  the  man's  belt. 


^6  A    VISIT  TO   THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM. 

and  drawin  him  close  to  me  in  a  confiden- 
tial way,  "  You  see,  I'm  lookin  round  this 
Mooseum,  and  if  I  like  it  I  shall  buy  it." 

Instid  of  larfin  hartily  at  these  remarks, 
which  was  made  in  a  goakin  spirit,  the  man 
frowned  darkly  and  walked  away. 

I  first  visited  the  stuffed  animals,  of 
which  the  gorillers  interested  me  most. 
These  simple-minded  monsters  live  in 
Afriky,  and  are  believed  to  be  human  be- 
ins  to  a  slight  extent,  altho'  they  are  not 
allowed  to  vote.  In  this  deparmcnt  is  one 
or  two  superior  giraffes.  I  never  woulded 
I  were  a  bird,  but  I've  sometimes  wished  I 
was  a  giraffe,  on  account  of  the  long  dis- 
tance from  his  mouth  to  his  stummuck. 
Hence,  if  he  loved  beer,  one  mugful  would 
give  him  as  much  enjoyment  while  goin 
down  as  forty  mugfuls  would  ordinary  per- 
sons. And  he  wouldn't  get  intoxicated, 
which  is  a  beastly  way  of  amusin  oneself,  I 
must  say.  I  like  a  little  beer  now  and  then, 
and  when  the  teetotallers  inform  us,  as 
they  frckently  do,  that  it  is  vile  stuff,  and 
that  even  the  swine  slirink  from  it,  I  say  it 
only  shows   that  the  swine   is  a  ass  who 


A    VISIT  TO   THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM.  77 

don't  know  what's  good ;  but  to  pour  gin 
and  brandy  down  one's  throat  as  freely  as 
though  it  were  fresh  milk,  is  the  most  idiotic 
way  of  goin'  to  the  devil  that  I  know  of. 

"  I  enjoyed  myself  very  much  lookin  at 
the  Egyptian  mummys,  the  Greek  vasis, 
etc.,  but  it  occurd  to  me  there  was  rayther 
too  many  "  Roman  antiquitys  of  a  uncertin 
date."  Now,  I  like  the  British  Mooseum,  as 
I  said  afore,  but  when  I  see  a  lot  of  erthen 
jugs  and  pots  stuck  up  on  shelves,  and  all 
"of  a  uncertin  date,"  I'm  at  a  loss  to 
'zackly  determin  whether  they  are  a  thou- 
sand years  old  or  was  bought  I'ecent.  I 
can  cry  like  a  child  over  a  jug  one  thou- 
sand years  of  age,  especially  if  it  is  a  Ro- 
man jug ;  but  a  jug  of  a  uncertin  date 
doesn't  overwhelm  me  with  emotions. 
Jugs  and  pots  of  a  uncertin  age  is  doubt- 
less vallyable  property,  but,  like  the  deben- 
tures of  the  London,  Chatham  and  Dover 
Railway,  a  man  doesn't  want  too  many  of 
them. 

I  was  debarred  out  of  the  great  readin- 
room.  A  man  told  me  I  must  apply  by 
letter  for  admission,  and  that  I  must  get 


78  A    VISIT  TO  THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM. 

somebody  to  testify  that  I  was  respectable. 
I'm  a  little  'fraid  I  shan't  get  in  there.  Seein 
a  elderly  gentleman,  with  a  beneverlent- 
lookin  face  near  by,  I  venturd  to  ask  him  if 
he  would  certify  that  I  was  respectable. 
He  said  he  certainly  would  not,  but  he 
would  put  me  in  charge  of  a  policeman,  if 
that  would  do  me  any  good.  A  thought 
struck  me.  "  I  refer  you  to  Mr.  Punch^' 
I  said. 

"  Well, "  said  a  man,  who  had  listened  to 
my  application,  "you  have  done  it  now! 
You  stood  some  chance  before."  I  will  get 
this  infamus  wretch's  name  before  you  go 
to  press,  so  you  can  denounce  him  in  the 
present  number  of  your  excellent  journal. 

The  statute  of  Apollo  is  a  pretty  slick 
statute.  A  young  yeoman  seemed  deeply 
imprest  with  it.  He  viewd  it  with  silent 
admiration.  At  home,  in  the  beautiful 
rural  districks  where  the  daisy  sweetly 
blooms,  he  would  be  swearin  in  a  horrible 
manner  at  his  bullocks,  and  whacking  'em 
over  the  head  with  a  hayfork ;  but  here,  in 
the  presence  of  Art,  he  is  a  changed  bein. 

I  told  the  attendant  that  if  the  British 


A    VISIT  TO    THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM.  79 

nation  would  stand  the  expens  of  a  marble 
bust  of  myself,  I  would  willingly  sit  to  some 
talented  sculpist.  "  I  feel,"  I  said,  "  that 
this  is  a  dooty  I  owe  to  posterity."  He 
said  it  was  hily  prob'l,  but  he  was  inclined 
to  think  that  the  British  nation  wouldn't 
care  to  enrich  the  Mooseum  with  a  bust  of 
me,  altho'  he  venturd  to  think  that  if  I 
paid  for  one  myself  it  would  be  accepted 
cheerfully  by  Madam  Tussaud,  who  would 
give  it  a  prom'nent  position  in  her  Cham- 
ber of  Horrers.  The  young  man  was  very 
polite,  and  I  thankt  him  kindly. 

After  visitin  the  Refreshment  room  and 
partakin  of  half  a  chicken  "  of  a  uncertin 
age,"  like  the  Roman  antiquitys  I  have 
previsly  spoken  of,  I  prepared  to  leave. 
As  I  passed  through  the  animal  room  I 
observed  with  pane  that  a  benevolint  per- 
son was  urgin  the  stufft  elephant  to  accept 
a  cold  muffin,  but  I  did  not  feel  called  on 
to  remonstrate  with  him,  any  more  than  I 
did  with  two  young  persons  of  diff 'rent 
sexes  who  had  retired  behind  the  Rynos- 
serhoss  to  squeeze  each  other's  hands.  In 
fack,  I  rayther  approved  of  the  latter  pro- 


So  A    VISIT  TO   THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM. 

ceedin,  for  it  carrid  me  back  to  the  sunny 
spring-time  of  my  life.  I'm  in  the  shear 
and  yeller  leaf  now,  but  I  don't  forgit  the 
time  when  to  squeeze  my  Betsy's  hand 
sent  a  thrill  through  me  like  follin  off 
the  roof  of  a  two-story  house ;  and  I  never 
squozed  that  gentle  hand  without  wantin 
to  do  so  some  more,  and  feelin  that  it  did 
me  good. 

Trooly  yours, 

ARTEMUS    WARD. 


P7R0TECHNY.  8 1 


IX. 

PYROTECHNY. 
I. THE  PEACEFUL  HAMLET. 

Nestling  among  the  grandhills  of  New 
Hampshire,  in  the  United  States  of  Ame- 
rica, is  a  village  called  Waterbury. 

Perhaps  you  were  never  there. 

I  do  not  censure  you  if  you  never  were. 

One  can  get  on  very  well  without  going 
to  Waterbury. 

Indeed,  there  are  millions  of  meritorious 
persons  who  were  never  there,  and  yet 
they  are  happy. 

In  this  peaceful  hamlet  lived  a  young 
man  named  Pettingill. 

Reuben  Pettingill. 

He  was  an  agriculturist. 

A  broad-shouldered,  deep-chested  agri- 
culturist. 


82  PYROTECHNY. 

He  was  contented  to  live  In  this  peace- 
ful hamlet. 

He  said  it  was  better  than  a  noisy 
Othello. 

Thus  do  these  simple  children  of  nature 
joke  in  a  first  class  manner. 

II. MYSELF. 

I  write  this  romance  in  the  French  style. 

Yes :    something  that  way. 

The  French  style  consists  of  making  just 
as  many  paragraphs  as  possible. 

Thus  one  may  fill  up  a  coUumn  in  a 
very  short  time. 

I  am  paid  by  the  collumn,  and  the  quicker 
I  can  fill  up  a  collumn — but  this  is  a  matter 
to  which  we  will  not  refer. 

We  will  let  this  matter  pass. 

III. PETTINGILL. 

Reuben  Pcttingill  was  extremely  indus- 
trious. 

He  workc-d  hard  all  the  year  round  on 
his  father's  little  farm. 

Right  he  was ! 

Industry  is  a  very  fine  thing. 


PTROTECENY.  83 

It  Is  one  of  the  finest  things  of  which  we 
have  any  knowledge. 

Yet  no  not  frown,  "  do  not  weep  for  me," 
when  I  state  that  I  don't  Hke  it.. 

It  doesn't  agree  with  me. 

I  prefer  indolence. 

I  am  happiest  when  I  am  idle. 

I  could  live  for  months  without  perfor- 
ming any  kind  of  labour,  and  at  the  expir- 
ation of  that  time  I  should  feel  fresh  and 
vigorous  enough  to  go  right  on  in  the  same 
way  for  numerous  more  months. 

This  should  not  surprise  you. 

Nothing:  that  a  modern  -novellist  does 
should  excite  astonishment  in  any  well- 
reeulated  mind. 


't) 


IV. INDEPENDENCE    DAY. 

The  4th  of  July  is  always  celebrated  in 
America  with  guns,  and  processions,  and 
banners,  and  all  those  things. 

You  know  why  we  celebrate  this  day. 

The  American  Revolution,  in  1775,  was 
perhaps  one  of  the  finest  revolutions  that 
was  ever  seen.     But  I  have  not   time   to 


84  PYEOTECENY. 

give  you  a  full  history  of  the  American 
Revolution.  It  would  consume  years  to  do 
it,  and  I  might  weary  you. 

One  4th  of  July,  Reuben  Pettingill  went 
to  Boston. 

He  saw  great  sights. 

He  saw  the  dense  throng  of  people,  the 
gay  volunteers,  the  banners,  and,  above  all, 
he  saw  the  fireworks. 

I  despise  myself  for  using  so  low  a  word, 
but  the  fireworks  "  licked  "  him. 

A  new  world  was  opened  to  this  young 
man. 

He  returned  to  his  parents  and  the  little 
farm  among  the  bills,  with  his  heart  full  of 
fireworks. 

He  said,  "  I  will  make  some  myself." 

He  said  this  while  eating  a  lobster  on 
top  of  the  coach. 

He  was  an  extraordinarily  skilful  young 
man  in  the  use  of  a  common  clasp-knife. 

With  that  simple  weapon  he  could  make, 
from  soft  wood,  horses,  dogs,  cats,  &:c.  He 
carved  excellent  soldiers  also. 

I  remember  his  masterpiece. 

It  was  "  Napoleon  crossing  the  Alps." 


PYR0TEGHN7.  85 

Looking  at  it  critically,  I  should  say  it 
was  rather  short  of  Alps. 

An  Alp  or  two  more  would  have  im- 
proved it :  but,  as  a  whole,  it  was  a  wonder- 
ful piece  of  work ;  and  what  a  wonderful 
piece  of  work  is  a  wooden  man,  when  his 
legs  and  arms  are  all  right. 

V. — WHAT    THIS    YOUNG   MAN    SAID. 

He  said,  "  I  can  make  just  as  good  fire- 
works as  them  in  Boston." 

"Them"  was  not  grammatical,  but  why 
care  for  grammar  as  long  as  we  are  good  1 

VI. THE    father's    TEARS. 


Pettingill  neglected  the  farm. 

He  said  that  it  might  till  itself— he  should 
manufacture  some  gorgeous  fireworks,  and 
exhibit  them  on  the  village  green  on  the 
next  4th  of  July. 

He  said  the  Eagle  of  Fame  would  flap 
his  wings  over  their  humble  roof  ere  many 
months  should  pass  away. 

"  If  he  does,"  said  old  Mr.  Pettingill,  "  we 


S6  PYEOTECHNY. 

must  shoot  him,  and  bile  him,  and  eat  him, 
because  we  shall  be  rather  short  of  meat, 
my  son,  if  you  go  on  in  this  lazy  way." 

And  the  old  man  wept. 

He  shed  over  120  gallons  of  tears. 

That  is  to  say,  a  puncheon.     But  by  all 

cans  let  us 
into  a  farce. 


means  let  us  avoid  turning  this   romance 


VII. PYROTECHNY. 

But  the  headstrong  young  man  went  to 
work,  making  fireworks. 

He  bought  and  carefully  studied  a  work 
on  pyrotcchny. 

The  villagers  knew  that  he  was  a  re- 
markably skilful  young  man,  and  they  all 
said,  "  We  shall  have  a  great  treat  next  4th 
of  July." 

Meanwhile  Pcttingill  worked  away. 

VIII. THE    DAY. 

The  great  day  came  at  last. 
Thousands  i)ourcd  into  the  little  village 
from  far  and  near. 

There  was  an  oration,  of  course. 


PYR0TECHN7.  8/ 

IX. ORATORY   IN   AMERICA. 

Yes ;  there  was  an  oration. 

We  have  a  passion  for  oratory  in  Ameri- 
ca— political  oratory  chiefly. 

Our  political  orators  never  lose  a  chance 
to  "express  their  views." 

They  will  do  it.     You  cannot  stop  them. 

There  was  an  execution  in  Ohio  one 
day,  and  the  Sheriff,  before  placing  the 
rope  round  the  murderer's  neck,  asked  him 
if  he  had  an}^  remarks  to  make  1 

"  If  he  hasn't,"  said  a  well-known  local 
orator,  pushing  his  way  rapidly  through 
the  dense  crowd  to  the  gallows — "  if  our 
ill-starred  feller-citizen  don't  feel  inclined 
to  make  a  speech,  and  is  in  no  hurry,  I 
should  like  to  avail  myself  of  the  present 
occasion  to  make  some  remarks  on  the 
necessity  of  a  new  protective  tariff!" 

.     X. PETTINGILL's    FIREWORKS. 

As  I  said  in  Chapter  viii.,  there  was  an 
oration.  There  were  also  processions,  and 
guns,  and  banners. 


88  P7R0TECHNT. 

"  This  evening,"  said  the  chairman  of 
the  committee  of  arrangements,  "  this  even- 
ing, fellow-citizens,  there  will  be  a  grand 
display  of  fireworks  on  the  village  green, 
superintended  by  the  inventor  and  manu- 
facturer, our  public-spirited  townsman,  Mr. 
Reuben  Pettingill." 

Night  closed  in,  and  an  immense  con- 
course of  people  gathered  on  the  village 
green. 

On  a  raised  platform,  amidst  his  fire- 
works, stood  Pettingill. 

He  felt  that  the  great  hour  of  his  life 
was  come,  and,  in  a  firm,  clear  voice,  he 
said  : 

"The  fust  fireworks,  feller-citizens,  will 
be  a  rocket,  which  will  go  up  in  the  air, 
bust,  and  assume  the  shape  of  a  serpint." 

He  applied  a  match  to  the  rocket,  but 
instead  of  going  uj)  in  the  air,  it  flew  wildly 
down  into  the  grass,  running  some  distance 
with  a  hissing  kind  of  sound,  and  causing 
the  masses  to  jump  round  in  a  very  insane 
manner. 

Pettingill  was  disappointed,  but  not  dis- 
hcartcnod.     He  tried  aeain. 


PYROTECENY.  89 

"  The  next  fireworks,"  he  said,  "  will  go 
up  in  the  air,  bust,  and  become  a  beautiful 
revolvin'  wheel." 

But,  alas !  it  didn't.  It  only  ploughed  a 
little  fiirrow  in  the  green  grass,  like  its  un- 
happy predecessor. 

The  masses  laughed  at  this,  and  one 
man — a  white-haired  old  villager — said, 
kindly  but  firmly,  "  Reuben,  I'm  Yraid  you 
don't  understand  pyrotechny." 

Reuben  was  amazed.  Why  did  his 
rockets  go  down  instead  of  up  }  But,  per- 
haps, the  others  would  be  more  successful ; 
and,  with  a  flushed  face,  and  in  a  voice 
scarcely  as  firm  as  before,  he  said : 

"  The  next  specimen  of  pyrotechny  will 
go  up  in  the  air,  bust,  and  become  a  eagle. 
Said  eagle  will  soar  away  into  the  western 
skies,  leavin'  a  red  trail  behind  him  as  he 
so  soars." 

But,  alas  !  again.  No  eagle  soared,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  that  ordinarily  proud  bird 
buried  its  head  in  the  grass. 

The  people  were  dissatisfied.  They 
made  sarcastic  remarks.  Some  of  them 
howled  angrily.       The  aged  man,  who  had 


90  PYR0TECHN7. 

before  spoken,  said,  "  No,  Reuben,  you  evi- 
dently don't  understand  pyrotechny." 

Pettingill  boiled  with  rage  and  disap- 
pointment. 

"  You  don't  understand  pyrotechny !  " 
the  masses  shouted. 

Then  they  laughed  in  a  disagreeable 
manner,  and  some  unfeeling  lads  threw  dirt 
at  our  hero. 

"  You  don't  understand  pyrotechny !  " 
the  masses  yelled  again. 

*'  Don't  I  .-^ "  screamed  Pettingill,  wild  with 
rage  ;  "  don't  you  think  I  do  .?" 

Then  seizing  several  gigantic  rockets  he 
placed  them  over  a  box  of  powder,  and 
touched  the  whole  off. 

This  rocket  went  up.     It  did,  indeed. 

There  was  a  terrific  explosion. 

No  one  was  killed,  fortunately ;  though 
many  were  injured. 

The  platform  was  almost  torn  to  pieces. 

But  proudly  erect  among  the  falling  tim- 
bers stood  Pettingill,  his  face  flashing  with 
wild  triumj:)h  ;  and  he  shouted  :  "  If  I'm 
any  judge  of  pyrotcchn}^  i/iai  rocket  has 
went  off." 


PYROTECmTT.  9I 

Then  seeing  that  all  the  fingers  on  his 
right  hand  had  been  taken  close  off  in  the 
explosion,  he  added  :  "  And  I  ain't  so  dread- 
ful certain  but  four  of  my  fingers  has  went 
off  with  it,  because  I  don't  see  'em  here 
now ! " 


92  THE  NEGRO    QUESTION. 


X. 

THE    NEGRO    QUESTION. 

I  WAS  sitting  in  the  bar,  quietly  smokin 
a  frugal  pipe,  when  two  middle-aged  and 
stern-lookin  females  and  a  young  and  pretty 
female  suddenly  entered  the  room.  They 
were  accompanied  by  two  umbrellers  and  a 
negro  gentleman.  "  Do  you  feel  for  the 
down-trodden  ? "  said  one  of  the  females,  a 
thin-faced  and  sharp-voiced  person  in  green 
spectacles.  "  Do  I  feel  for  it  ?  "  ansered 
the  lan'lord,  in  a  puzzled  voice — "  Do  I  feel 
for  it .''  "  "  Yes ;  for  the  oppressed,  the  be- 
nited } "  "  Inasmuch  as  to  which  ?  "  said  the 
lan'lord.  "  You  see  this  man  ? "  said  the  fe- 
male, pintin  her  umbreller  at  the  negro  gen- 
tleman. "  Yes,  marm,  I  see  him."  "  Yes  !  " 
said  the  female,  raisin  her  voice  to  a  ex- 
ceedin  high  pitch,  "  you  see  him,  and  he's 
your  brother !  "   *'  No,  I'm  darned  if  he  is  ! " 


THE  NEGRO   QUESTION.  93 

said  the  lan'lord,  hastily  retreatin  to  his 
beer-casks.  "And  yours !  "  shouted  the  ex- 
cited female,  addressin  me.  "  He  is  also 
your  brother !  "  "  No,  I  think  not,  marm," 
I  pleasantly  replied.  "  The  nearest  we 
come  to  that  color  in  our  family  was  the 
case  of  my  brother  John.  He  had  the  jan 
ders  for  several  years,  but  they  finally  left 
him.  I  am  happy  to  state  that,  at  the 
present  time,  he  hasn't  a  solitary  jander." 
"  Look  at  this  man !  "  screamed  the  female. 
I  looked  at  him.  He  was  an  able-bodied, 
well  -  dressed,  comfortable  -  looking  negro. 
He  looked  as  though  he  might  heave  three 
or  four  good  meals  a  day  into  him  without 
a  murmer.  "  Look  at  that  down-trodden 
man !  "  cried  the  female.  "  Who  trod  on 
him  ?  "  I  inquired.  "  Villains !  despots !  " 
"  Well,"  said  the  lan'lord,  "  why  don't  you 
go  to  the  willins  about  it  ?  Why  do  you 
come  here  tellin  us  niggers  is  our  brothers, 
and  brandishin  your  umbrellers  round  like 
a  lot  of  lunytics }  You'r  wuss  than  the 
sperrit-rappers  ?  "  "Have  you,"  said  mid- 
dle-aged female  No.  2,  who  was  a  quieter 
sort  of  person,  "  have  you  no  sentiment — ■ 


94  THE  NEGRO    QUESTION. 

no  poetry  in  your  soul — no  love  for  the 
beautiful  ?  Dost  never  go  into  the  green 
fields  to  cull  the  beautiful  flowers  ?  "  "  I 
not  only  never  dost,"  said  the  landlord  in 
an  angry  voice,  "  but  I'll  bet  you  five  pound 
you  can't  bring  a  man  as  dares  say  I  durst." 
"  The  little  birds,"  continued  the  female, 
"  dost  not  love  to  gaze  onto  them  ?  "  "  I 
would  I  were  a  bird,  that  I  might  fly  to 
thou  ?  "  I  humorously  sung,  casting  a  sweet 
glance  at  the  pretty  young  woman.  "  Don't 
you  look  in  that  way  at  my  dawter ! "  said 
female  No.  i,  in  a  violent  voice;  "you're 
old  enough  to  be  her  father."  "  'Twas  an 
innocent  look,  dear  madam,"  I  softly  said. 
"  You  behold  in  me  an  emblem  of  inno- 
cence and  purity.  In  fact,  I  start  for  Rome 
by  the  first  train  to-morrow  to  sit  as  a  model 
to  a  celebrated  artist  who  is  about  to  sculp 
a  statue  to  be  called  Sweet  Innocence. 
Do  you  s'pose  a  sculper  would  send  for  me 
for  that  purpose  onless  he  knowd  I  was 
overflowing  with  innocency?  Don't  make 
a  error  about  me."  "  It  is  my  opinyn,"  said 
the  leading  female,  "  that  you're  a  scoffer 
and  a  wretch  ?     Your  mind  is  in  a  wusser 


THE  NEGRO   QUESTION.  95 

beclouded  state  than  the  poor  negroes  we 
are  seeking  to  aid.  You  are  a  groper  in 
the  dark  cellar  of  sin.     O  sinful  man ! 

There  is  a  sparkling  fount, 
Coine,  O  come,  and  drink. 

No  :  you  will  not  come  and  drink."  "  Yes, 
he  will,"  said  the  landlord,  "  if  you'll  treat. 
Jest  try  him."  "  As  for  you,"  said  the  en- 
raged female  to  the  landlord,  "  you're  a  de- 
graded bein,  to  low  and  wulgar  to  talk  to." 
"  This  is  the  sparklin  fount  for  me,  dear 
sister ! "  cried  the  lanlord,  drawin  and 
drinkin  a  musf  of  beer.  Havinsf  uttered 
which  goak,  he  gave  a  low  rumblin  larf, 
and  relapst  into  silence.  "  My  colored 
fren',"  I  said  to  the  negro,  kindly,  "  what  is 
it  all  about  ?  "  He  said  they  was  trying  to 
raise  money  to  send  missionaries  to  the 
Southern  States  in  America  to  preach  to 
the  vast  numbers  of  negroes  recently  made 
free  there.  He  said  they  were  without  the 
gospel.  They  were  without  tracts.  I  said, 
"  My  fren',  this  is  a  seris  matter.  I  admire 
you  for  trying  to  help  the  race  to  which 
you  belong,  and  far  be  it  from  me  to  say 


96  THE  NEGEO   QUESTION. 

anything  again  carrying  the  gospel  among 
the  blacks  of  the  South.  Let  them  go 
to  them  by  all  means.  But  I  happen  to 
individually  know  that  there  are  some 
thousands  of  liberated  blacks  in  the  South 
who  are  starvin.  I  don't  blame  anybody 
for  this,  but  it  is  a  very  sad  fact.  Some  are 
really  too  ill  to  work,  some  can't  get  work 
to  do,  and  others  are  too  foolish  to  see  any 
necessity  for  workin.  I  was  down  there 
last  winter,  and  I  observed  that  this  class 
had  plenty  of  preachin  for  their  souls,  but 
skurce  any  vittles  for  their  stummux.  Now, 
if  it  is  proposed  to  send  flour  and  bacon 
along  with  the  gospel,  the  idea  is  really  a 
excellent  one.  If,  on  the  t'other  hand,  it  is 
proposed  to  send  preachin  alone,  all  I  can 
say  is  tliat  its  a  hard  case  for  the  niggers. 
If  you  expect  a  colored  person  to  get  deeply 
interested  in  a  tract  when  his  stummuck 
is  empty,  you  expect  too  much."  I  gave 
negro  as  much  as  I  could  afford,  and  the 
kind-hearted  lan'lord  did  the  same.  I  said, 
"  Farewell,  my  colored  frcn',  I  wish  you 
well,  certainly.  You  are  now  as  free  as  the 
eagle.     Be  like  him  and  soar.     But  don't 


i^^ 

^ 

L 

\"-C 

<«^ 

\x 

.^ 

@K 

\^ 

Yr^Ling  woman,  I'm  not  your  Saler  boy.      Far  different. '" 
Sir  pagu  :^2. 


TEE  KEGEO   QUESTIOK  97 

attempt  to  convert  a  Ethiopian  person 
while  his  stummuck  yearns  for  vittles. 
And  you,  ladies — I  hope  you  are  ready  to 
help  the  poor  and  unfortunate  at  home,  as 
you  seem  to  help  the  poor  and  unfortunate 
abroad."  When  they  had  gone,  the  lan'- 
lord  said,  "  Come  into  the  garden,  Ward." 
And  we  went  and  culled  some  carrots  for 
dinner. 

5 


PART   II. 

ESSAYS    AND    SKETCHES. 

From  the  "  Cleveland  Plaindealer." 


ESSAYS   AND   SKETCHES. 


I. 


ABOUT    EDITORS. 


We  hear  a  great  deal,  and  something 
too  much  about  the  poverty  of  editors.  It 
is  common  for  editors  to  parade  their  pov- 
erty and  joke  about  it  in  their  papers.  We 
see  these  witticisms  almost  every  day  of 
our  lives.  Sometimes  the  editor  does  the 
"vater  vorks  business,"  as  Mr.  Samuel 
Weller  called  weeping,  and  makes  pathetic 
appeals  to  his  subscribers.  Sometimes  he 
is  in  earnest  when  he  makes  these  ap- 
peals, but  why  "on  airth"  does  he  stick  to 
a  business  that  will  not  support  him  de- 
cently?    We  read  of  patriotic  and  lofty- 


102  ABOUT  EDITORS. 

minded  Individuals  who  sacrifice  health, 
time,  money,  and  perhaps  life  for  the  good 
of  humanity,  the  Union  and  that  sort  of 
thing,  but  we  don't  see  them  very  often.  We 
must  say  that  we  could  count  up  all  the 
lofty  patriots  in  this  line  that  we  have  ever 
seen,  during  our  brief  but  checquered  and 
romantic  career,  in  less  than  half  a  day. 
A  man  who  clings  to  a  wretchedly  paying 
business,  when  he  can  make  himself  and 
others  near  and  dear  to  him  fatter  and  hap- 
pier by  doing  something  else,  is  about  as 
near  an  ass  as  possible  and  not  hanker 
after  green  grass  and  corn  in  the  car.  The 
truth  is,  editors  as  a  class  are  very  well  fed, 
groomed  and  harnessed.  They  have  some 
pains  that  other  folk  do  not  have,  and 
they  also  have  some  privileges  which  the 
community  in  general  can't  possess.  While 
we  would  not  advise  the  young  reader  to 
"go  for  an  editor,"  we  assure  him  he  can 
do  much  worse.  He  mustn't  spoil  a  flour- 
ishing blacksmith  or  popular  victualer  in 
making  an  indifl'crent  editor  of  himself, 
however.  He  must  be  endowed  with  some 
fancy  and  imagination  to  enchain  the  pub- 


ABOUT  EDITORS.  IO3 

lie  eye.  It  was  Smith,  we  believe,  or  some 
other  man  with  an  odd  name,  who  thought 
Shakspeare  lacked  the  requisite  fancy  and 
imagination  for  a  successful  editor. 

To  those  persons  who  can't  live  by 
printing  papers  we  would  say,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  profligate  boarder  when  dun- 
ned for  his  bill,  being  told  at  the  same  time 
by  the  keeper  of  the  house  that  he  couldn't 
board  people  for  nothing,  "sell  out  to 
somebody  who  can."  In  other  words,  fly 
from  a  business  which  don't  remunerate. 
But  as  we  intimated  before,  there  is  much 
gammon  in  the  popular  editorial  cry  of 
poverty. 

Just  now  we  see  a  touching  paragraph 
floating  through  the  papers  to  the  effect 
that  editors  don't  live  out  half  their  years 
— that,  poor  souls!  they  wear  themselves 
out  for  the  benefit  of  a  cold  and  unapprecia- 
ting  world.  We  don't  believe  it.  Gentle 
reader,  don't  swallow  it.  It  is  a  footlight 
trick  to  work  on  your  feelings.  For  our- 
selves, let  us  say,  that  unless  we  slip  up 
considerably  on  our  calculations,  it  will  be 
a  long  time  before  our  fellow-citizens  will 


I04  ABOUT  EDITORS. 

have  the  melancholy  pleasure  of  erecting 
to  our  memory  a  towering  monument  of 
Parian  marble  on  the  Public  Square. 


Items. — They  are  very  "  scarce."  Read- 
ers may  complain  at  the  lack  of  local  news 
in  our  papers,  but  where  can  we  get  it } 
We  are  in  about  as  bad  a  fix  as  the  French 
leader  of  the  orchestra  in  a  theatre  "  Out 
West"  was.  He  was  flourishins:  his  baton 
in  the  most  frantic  manner — the  fiddles 
were  squeaking — the  brass  instruments 
were  braying — the  cymbals  were  clashing, 
and  the  orchestra  was  maklno:  all  the  noise 
it  possibly  could.  But  a  man  in  the  pit 
wasn't  satisfied.  "Louder!  louder!  louder!" 
he  yelled.  The  French  leader  dropped  his 
baton  in  despair,  wiped  the  perspiration 
from  his  brow,  told  the  orchestra  to  cease 
playing,  and  violently  spoke  as  follows  : — 
"  The  gen'lman  may  cry  loud-AR  as  much 
as  he  please,  but  vere  we  get  de  wind,  by 
gar }  "  A  few  hours  of  active  study  will 
show  the  reader  that  the  comparison  is  a 
good  one. 


EDITING.  105 


II. 

EDITING. 

Before  you  go  for  an  Editor,  young  man, 
pause  and  take  a  big  think !  Do  not  rush 
into  the  Editorial  harness  rashly.  Look 
around  and  see  if  there  is  not  an  omnibus 
to  drive — some  soil  somewhere  to  be  tilled 
— a  clerkship  on  some  meat  cart  to  be  fill- 
ed— anything  that  is  reputable  and  healthy, 
rather  than  going  for  an  Editor,  which  is 
hard  business  at  best. 

We  are  not  a  horse,  and  consequently 
have  never  been  called  upon  to  furnish  the  ^. 
motive  power  for  a  threshing  machine ;  but 
we  fancy  that  the  life  of  the  Editor,  who  is 
forced  to  write,  write,  write,  whether  he  feels 
right  or  not,  is  much  like  that  of  the  steed 
in  question.  If  the  yeas  and  neighs  could 
be  obtained  we  believe  the  intelligent  horse 
would  decide  that  the  threshing  machine  is 
preferable  to  the  sanctum  Editorial. 
5* 


I06  EDITING. 

The  Editor's  work  is  never  done.  He  is 
drained  incessantly,  and  no  wonder  that  he 
dries  up  prematurely.  Other  people  can 
attend  banquets,  weddings,  etc. ;  visit  halls 
of  dazzling  light,  get  inebriated,  break 
windows,  lick  a  man  occasionally,  and  enjoy 
themselves  in  a  variety  of  ways;  but  the 
Editor  cannot.  He  must  stick  tenaciously 
to  his  quill.  The  press,  like  a  sick  baby, 
mustn't  be  left  alone  for  a  minute.  If  the 
press  is  left  to  run  itself  even  for  a  day, 
some  absurd  person  indignantly  orders  the 
carrier-boy  to  stop  bringing  "that  infernal 
paper.  There's  nothing  in  it.  I  won't 
have  it  in  the  house ! " 

The  elegant  Mantalini,  reduced  to  man- 
Heturnins:,  described  his  life  as  "  a  dem'd 
horrid  grind."  The  life  of  the  Editor  is 
all  of  that. 

But  there  is  a  good  time  coming,  we  feel 
confident,  for  the  Editor.  A  time  when 
he  will  be  appreciated.  When  he  will 
have  a  front  scat.  When  he  will  have  pie 
every  day,  and  wear  store  clothes  continu- 
ally. When  the  harsh  cry  of  "stop  my 
paper"  will  no  more  grate  upon  his  ears. 


EDITING.  107 

Courage,  Messieurs  the  Editors!  Still, 
sanguine  as  we  are  of  the  coming  of  this 
jolly  time,  we  advise  the  aspirant  for  Edi- 
torial honors  to  pause  ere  he  takes  up  the 
quill  as  a  means  of  obtaining  his  bread  and 
butter.  Do  not,  at  least,  do  so  until  you 
have  been  jilted  several  dozen  times  by 
a  like  number  of  girls  ;  until  you  have  been 
knocked  down  stairs  and  soused  in  a  horse- 
pond  ;  until  all  the  "  gushing "  feelings 
within  you  have  been  thoroughly  subdued ; 
until,  in  short,  your  hide  is  of  rhinoceros 
thickness.  Then,  O  aspirants  for  the 
bubble  reputation  at  the  press's  mouth, 
throw  yourselves  among  the  inkpots,  dust, 
and  cobwebs  of  the  printing  office,  if  you 
will. 

*  *  *  Good  my  lord,  will  you  see  the 
Editors  well  bestowed }  Do  you  hear,  lei 
them  be  well  used,  for  they  are  the  abstract 
and  brief  chronicles  of  the  time.  After 
your  death  you  had  better  have  a  bad  epi- 
taph than  their  ill  report  while  you  live. 
Hamlet,  slightly  altered. 


I08  MORALITY  AND   GENIUS. 


III. 
MORALITY   AND   GENIUS. 

We  see  it  gravely  stated  in  a  popular 
Metropolitan  journal  that  "  true  genius 
goes  hand  in  hand,  necessarily,  with  moral- 
ity." The  statement  is  not  a  startlingly 
novel  one.  It  has  been  made,  probably, 
about  sixty  thousand  times  before.  But  it 
is  untrue  and  foolish.  We  wish  genius 
and  morality  were  affectionate  companions, 
but  it  is  a  fact  that  they  are  often  bitter 
enemies.  They  don't  necessarily  coalesce 
any  more  than  oil  and  water  do.  Innumer- 
iible  instances  may  be  readily  produced  in 
support  of  this  proposition.  Nobody  doubts 
that  Sheridan  had  genius,  yet  he  was  a  sad 
dog.  Mr.  Byron,  the  author  of  Childe 
Harold  "and  other  poems,"  was  a  man  of 
genius,  we  think,  yet  Mr.  Byron  was  a  fear- 
fully fast  man.     Edgar  A.  Poe  wrote  mag- 


MORALITY  AND    GENIUS.  IO9 

nificent  poetry  and  majestic  prose,  but  he 
was  in  private  life  hardly  the  man  for  small 
and  select  tea  parties.  We  fancy  Sir  Rich- 
ard Steele  was  a  man  of  genius,  but  he  got 
disreputably  drunk,  and  didn't  pay  his  debts. 
Swift  had  genius — an  immense  lot  of  it — 
yet  Swift  was  a  cold-blooded,  pitiless,  bad 
man.  The  catalogue  might  be  spun  out  to 
any  length,  but  it  were  useless  to  do  it.  We 
don't  mean  to  intimate  that  men  of  genius 
must  necessarily  be  sots  and  spendthrifts — 
>we  merely  speak  of  the  fact  that  very  many 
of  them  have  been  both,  and  in  some  in- 
stances much  worse  than  both.  Still  we 
can't  well  see  (though  some  think  they  can) 
how  the  pleasure  and  instruction  people 
derive  from  reading  the  productions  of 
these  great  lights  is  diminished  because 
their  morals  were  "  lavishly  loose."  They 
might  have  written  better  had  their  private 
lives  been  purer,  but  of  this  nobody  can 
determine,  for  the  pretty  good  reason  that 
nobody  knows. 

So  with  actors.  We  have  seen  people 
stay  away  from  the  theater  because  Mrs. 
Grundy  said  the  star  of  the  evening  invari- 


no  MOLALITY  AND    GSmUS. 

ably  retired  to  his  couch  in  a  state  of 
extreme  inebriety.  If  the  star  is  afflicted 
with  a  weakness  of  this  kind,  we  may  regret 
it.  We  may  pity  or  censure  the  star.  But 
we  must  still  acknowledge  the  star's  genius, 
and  applaud  it.  Hence  we  conclude  that 
the  chronic  weaknesses  of  actors  no  more 
affect  the  question  of  the  propriety  of  patro- 
nizing theatrical  representations,  than  the 
profligacy  of  journeymen  shoemakers  affects 
the  question  of  the  propriety  of  wearing 
boots.  All  of  which  is  respectfully  sub- 
mitted. 


POPULARITY.  Ill 


IV. 


POPULARITY. 


What  a  queer  thing  is  popularity.  Bill 
Pug  Nose  of  the  "  Plug-Uglies"  acquires  a 
world-wide  reputation  by  smashing  up  the 
"  champion  of  light  weights,"  sets  up  a  Sa- 
loon upon  it,  and  realizes  the  first  month ; 
while  our  Missionary,  who  collected  two 
hundred  blankets  last  August,  and  at  that 
time  saved  a  like  number  of  little  negroes 
in  the  West  Indies  from  freezing,  has  re- 
ceived nothing  but  the  yellow  fever.  The 
Hon.  Oracular  M.  Matterson  becomes  able 
to  withstand  any  quantity  of  late  nights  and 
bad  brandy,  is  elected  to  Congress,  and  lob- 
bies through  contracts  by  which  he  real- 
izes some  $50,000,  while  private  individuals 
lose  $100,000  by  the  Atlantic  Cable.  Con- 
tracts are  popular — the  cable  isn't.  Fid- 
dlers, Prima-Donnas,  Horse  Operas,  learned 


112  POPULARITY. 

pigs,  and  five-legged  calves  travel  through 
the  country,  reaping  "  golden  opinions, 
while  editors,  inventors,  professors  and 
humanitarians  generally,  are  starving  in 
garrets.  Revivals  of  religion,  fashions, 
summer  resorts,  and  pleasure  trips,  are  ex- 
ceedingly popular,  while  trade,  commerce, 
chloride  of  lime,  and  all  the  concomitants 
necessary  to  render  the  inner  life  of  deni- 
zens of  cities  tolerable,  are  decidedly  non 
EST.  Even  water,  which  was  so  popular 
and  populous  a  few  weeks  agone,  comes  to 
us  in  such  stinted  sprinklings  that  it  has 
become  popular  to  supply  it  only  from 
hydrants  in  sufficient  quantities  to  raise 
one  hundred  disgusting  smells  in  a  distance 
of  two  blocks.  Monsieur  Revierre,  with 
nothing  but  a  small  name  and  a  large 
quantity  of  hair,  makes  himself  exceedingly 
popular  with  hotel-keepers  and  a  numer- 
ous progeny  of  female  Flaunts  and  Blounts, 
while  Felix  Smooth  and  Mr.  Chink,  who 
persistently  set  forth  their  personal  and 
more  substantial  marital  charms  through 
the  columns  of  the  New  York  Herald, 
have  only  received  one    interview  each — 


POPULARITY.  113 

one  from  a  man  in  female  attire,  and  the 
other  from  the  keeper  of  an  unmentionable 
house.  Popularity  is  a  queer  thing,  very. 
If  you  don't  beheve  us,  try  it ! 


\  o 

Dull. — It  is  a  scandalous  fact  that  this 
city  is  desperately  and  fearfully  barren  of 
incident.  No  "  dem'd,  moist  unpleasant 
bodies"  are  fished  up  out  of  the  river ;  no  am- 
bitious young  female  runs  off  with  her  "  fel- 
ler;" no  stabbings,  gougings,  or  fisticuffs 
occur;  no  eminent  merchant  suspends;  no 
banker  or  railroad  man  defaults,  and  not 
evenadog-fightdisturbs  the  rigid  and  corpse- 
like quiet  of  the  city.  We  want  a  murder. 
We  insist  upon  having  a  murder.  A  man- 
slauditer  won't  do.  It  must  be  murder, 
premeditated,  foul,  and  unnatural.  It  must 
be  a  luscious  murder,  abounding  in  soul- 
harrowina:  incidents.  Some  "  man  in  hu- 
man  shape"  must  chop  the  heads  of  his  en- 
tire family  off  with  a  meat-axe,  or  insert  a 
butcher-knife  ingeniously  under  their  fifth 
ribs.  Let  murder  be  done.  Bring  on  your 
murderers.     We  want  to  be  Rochestered  ! 


114       ^   LITTLE  DIFFICULTY  IN  THE   WAT. 


V. 

A    LITTLE    DIFFICULTY    IN    THE    WAY. 

An  enterprising  traveling  agent  for  a 
well-known  Cleveland  Tomb  Stone  Manu- 
factory lately  made  a  business  visit  to  a 
small  town  in  an  adjoining  county.  Hear- 
ing, in  the  village,  that  a  man  in  a  remote 
part  of  the  township  had  lost  his  wife,  he 
thought  he  would  go  and  see  him  and  offer 
him  consolation  and  a  gravestone,  on  his 
usual  reasonable  terms.  He  started.  The 
road  was  a  frightful  one,  but  the  agent  per- 
severed, and  finally  arrived  at  the  bereaved 
man's  house.  Bereaved  man's  hired  girl 
told  the  agent  that  the  bereaved  man  was 
splitting  fence  rails  "over  in  the  pastur, 
about  two  milds."  The  indefatiirable  ai^ent 
hitched  his  horse  and  started  for  the  "  pas- 
tur." After  falling  into  all  manner  of 
mudholes,  scratching  himself  with  briers, 
and  tumbling  over  decayed  logs,  the  agent 


A  LITTLE  DIFFICULTY  IN  THE   WAT.       1 1 5 

at  length  found  the  bereaved  man.  In  a 
subdued  voice  he  asked  the  man  if  he  had 
lost  his  wife.  The  man  said  he  had.  The 
agent  was  very  sorry  to  hear  of  it,  and  sym- 
pathized with  the  man  very  deeply  in  his 
N  great  affliction  ;  but  death,  he  said,  was  an 
insatiate  archer,  and  shot  down  all,  both  of 
high  and  low  degree.  Informed  the  man 
that  "  what  was  his  loss  was  her  gain,"  and 
would  be  glad  to  sell  him  a  gravestone 
to  mark  the  spot  where  the  beloved  one 
slept — marble  or  common  stone,  as  he 
chose,  at  prices  defying  competition.  The 
bereaved  man  said  there  was  "  a  litde  dif- 
ficulty in  the  way."  "  Haven't  you  lost 
your  wife  ^  "  inquired  the  agent.  "  Why 
yes,  I  have,"  said  the  man,  "  but  no  grave 
stun  ain't  necessary :  you  see  the  cussed 
critter  ain't  dead.  She's  scooted  with 
ANOTHER  man!"     Thc  agent  retired. 


Il6  OTHELLO. 


VI. 

^  OTHELLO. 

Everybody  knows  that  this  is  one  of 
Mr.  W.  Shakespeare's  best  and  most  attrac- 
tive plays.  The  pubhc  is  more  famihar 
with  Othello  than  any  other  of  "  the  great 
Bard's"  efforts.  It  is  the  most  quoted  from 
by  writers  and  orators,  Hamlet  perhaps 
excepted,  and  provincial  theaters  seem  to 
take  more  deli2:ht  in  dointr  it  than  almost 
any  other  play  extant,  legitimate  or  other- 
wise. The  scene  is  laid  in  Venice.  Othel- 
lo, a  warm-hearted,  impetuous  and  rather 
verdant  Moorish  gentleman,  considerably 
in  the  military  line,  falls  in  love  and  mar- 
ries Desdemona,  daughter  of  the  Hon.  Mr. 
Brabantio,  who  represents  one  of  the 
"back  districts"  in  the  Venetian  Senate. 
The  Senator  is  quite  vexed  at  this — rends 
liis  linen  and  swears  considerably — but 
finally  dries  up,  requesting  the  Moor  to  re- 


OTHELLO.  117 

member  that  Desdemona  has  deceived  her 
Pa,  and  bidding  him  to  look  out  that  she 
don't  likewise  come  it  over  him,  "or  words 
to  that  effect."  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Othello  wt 
along  very  pleasantly  for  awhile.  She  is 
sweet-tempered  and  affectionate — a  nice, 
sensible  woman,  not  at  all  inclined  to  pan- 
taloons, he-female  conventions,  pickled- 
beets  and  other  "strong-minded"  arrange- 
ments. He  is  a  likely  man  and  "a  good 
provider."  But  a  man  named  lago,  who 
we  believe  wants  to  get  Mr.  O.  out  of 
his  snug  government  berth  that  he  may 
get  into  it,  systematically  and  effectually 
ruins  the  Othello  household.  Had  there 
been  a  Lecompton  Constitution  up,  lago 
would  have  been  an  able  and  eloquent  ad- 
vocate of  it,  and  would  thus  have  got 
Othello's  position,  for  the  Moor  would  have 
utterly  repudiated  that  pet  scheme  of  the 
Devil  and  several  other  gentlemen,  whose 
names  we  omit  out  of  regard  for  the  feel- 
ings of  their  parents.  Lecompton  wasn't 
a  "test,"  however,  and  lago  took  another 
course  to  oust  Othello.  He  fell  in  with  a 
brainless  young  man  named  Roderigo  and 


II 8  OTHELLO. 

won  all  of  his  money  at  euchre.  (lago  al- 
ways played  foul.)  We  suppose  he  did 
this  to  procure  funds  to  help  him  carry  out 
his  vile  scheme.  Michael  Cassio,  whose 
first  name  would  imply  that  he  was  of  the 
Irish  persuasion,  was  the  unfortunate  in- 
dividual selected  by  Mr.  I.  as  his  principal 
tool.  This  Cassio  was  a  young  officer  of 
considerable  promise  and  high  moral  worth. 
He  yet  unhappily  had  a  weakness  for  drink, 
and  through  this  weakness  Mr.  I.  deter- 
mined to  "fetch  him."  He  accordingly 
proposed  a  drinking  bout  with  Michael. 
Michael  drank  faithfully  every  time,  but 
lago  adroitly  threw  his  whiskey  on  the 
floor.  While  Cassio  is  pouring  the  liquor 
down  his  throat  lago  sings  a  popular  bac- 
chanalian song,  the  first  verse  of  which  is 
as  follows : 

"And  let  me  the  canakin  clink,  clink, 
And  let  me  the  canakin  clink  : 

A  soldier's  a  man, 

A  life's  hut  a  span. 
Why  then  let  a  soldier  drink." 

And  the  infatuated  young  man  docs  drink. 
The    "canakin   is  clinked"    until    Michael 


OTHELLO.  119 

gets  as  tight  as  a  boiled  owl.-  He  has 
about  seven  inches  of  whisky  in  him.  He 
says  he  is  sober,  and  thinks  he  can  walk  a 
crack  with  distinguished  success.  He  then 
grows  religious  and  "  hopes  to  be  saved." 
He  then  wants  to  fight,  and  allows  he  can 
lick  a  yard  full  of  the  Venetian  fancy.  He 
falls  in  with  Roderigo  and  proceeds  to 
smash  him.  Montano  undertakes  to  stop 
Cassio,  when  that  intoxicated  person  stabs 
him.  lago  pretends  to  be  very  sorry  to 
see  Michael  conduct  himself  in  this  im- 
proper manner,  and  undertakes  to  smooth 
the  thino:  over  to  Othello,  who  rushes  in 
with  a  drawn  sword  and  wants  to  know 
what's  up.  lago  cunningly  gives  his  vil- 
lanous  explanation,  and  Othello  tells 
Michael  that  he  loves  him  but  he  can't 
train  in  his  regiment  any  more.  Desde- 
mona,  the  gentle  and  good,  sympathizes 
with  Cassio  and  intercedes  for  him  with 
the  Moor,  lago  gives  the  Moor  to  un- 
derstand that  she  does  this  because  she 
likes  Michael  better  than  she  does  his  own 
dark-faced  self,  and  intimates  that  their 
relations  (Desdemona's  and  Michael's)  arc 


I20  OinELLO. 

of  an  entirely  too  friendly  character.  The 
Moor  believes  the  villain's  yarn,  and  com- 
mences making  himself  unhappy  and  dis- 
agreeable generally.  lago  tells  Othello 
what  he  heard  Cassio  say  about  "  sweet 
Desdemona"  in  his'  dreams,  but  of  course 
the  story  was  a  creation  of  lago's  fruitful 
brain — in  short,  a  lie.  The  poor  Moor 
swallows  it,  though,  and  storms  terribly. 
He  grabs  lago  by  the  throat  and  tells  him 
to  give  him  the  ocular  proof.  lago  becomes 
virtuously  indignant  and  is  sorry  he  men- 
tioned the  subject  to  the  Moor.  The  Moor 
relents  and  believes  lago.  He  then  tor- 
tures Desdemona  with  his  foul  suspicions, 
and  finally  smothers  her  with  a  pillow 
while  she  is  in  bed.  Mrs.  lago,  who  is  a 
woman  of  spirit,  comes  in  on  the  Moor 
just  as  he  has  finished  the  murder.  She 
gives  it  to  him  right  smardy,  and  shows 
hini  he  has  been  terribly  deceived.  Mr. 
lago  enters.  Mrs.  lago  pitches  into  him 
and  he  stabs  her.  Othello  gives  him 
a  piece  of  his  mind  and  subsequently  a 
piece  of  his  sword.  lago,  with  a  sardonic 
smile,  says  he  bleeds  but  isn't  hurt  much. 


Natural  History — Sudden  and  unexpected  Playfulness  of  the 
Bear — See  fnigc.  70. 


OTHELLO.  121 

He  then  walks  up  to  Othello,  and  with 
another  sardonic  smile,  points  to  the  death- 
couch  of  poor  Dcsdemona.  He  then  goes 
off.  Othello  tells  the  assembled  dignitaries 
that  he  has  done  the  State  some  service 
and  they  know  it;  asks  them  to  speak  of 
him  as  he  is,  and  do  as  fair  a  thing  as  they 
can  under  the  circumstances ;  calls  himself 
a  circumcised  dog,  and  kills  himself,  which 
is  the  most  sensible  thing  he  can  do. 


122       SCEJ^ES    OUTSIDE   THE  FATE    GROUND. 


VII. 

SCENES    OUTSIDE    THE    FAIR    GROUND. 

There  is  some  fun  outside  the  Fair 
Ground.  Any  number  of  mountebanks 
have  pitched  their  tents  there,  and  are 
exhibiting  all  sorts  of  monstrosities  to  large 
and  enthusiastic  audiences.  There  are 
some  eloquent  men  among  the  showmen. 
Some  of  them  are  Demosthenic.  We 
looked  around  among  them  during  the 
last  day  we  honored  the  Fair  with  our 
brilliant  presence,  and  were  rather  pleased 
at  some  things  we  heard  and  witnessed. 

The  man  with  the  fat  woman  and  the 
little  woman  and  the  little  man  was  there. 
"  'Ere's  a  show  now, "  said  he,  "  worth 
seeing,  'Ere's  a  entertainment  that  im- 
proves the  morals.  P.  T.  13arnum — you'\'e 
all  hcarn  o'  him.  What  did  he  say  to 
me  ?  Scz  he  to  me,  sez  P.  T.  Barnum, 
•Sir,  you    have    the    damdist    best    show 


SCEXES   OUTSIDE  THE  FAIR    GROUXD.         1 23 

travelin'!' — and  all  to  be  seen  for  the 
small    sum    of  fifteen    cents!" 

The  man  with  the  blue  hog  was  there. 
Says  he,  "  GentleMEN,  this  beast  can't  turn 
round  in  a  crockery  grate  ten  feet  square 
and  is  of  a  bright  indigo  blue.  Over  five 
hundred  persons  have  seen  this  wonderful 
BEING  this  mornin',  and  they  said  as  they 
come  out,  '  What  can  these  'ere  things  be  ? 
Is  it  alive.?  Doth  it  breathe  and  have 
a  being?  Ah  yes,  they  say,  it  is  true, 
and  we  have  saw  a  entertainment  as  we 
never  saw  afore.  'Tis  nature's  [only 
fifteen  cents — 'ere's  your  change,  Sir]  own 
sublime  handiworks  ' — and  walk  right  in." 

The  man  with  the  wild  mare  was  there. 
"  Now,  then,  my  friends,  is  your  time  to 
see  the  gerratist  queeriosity  in  the  livin' 
^vorld — a  wild  mare  without  no  hair — cap- 
tered  on  the  roarin'  wild  prahayries  of 
the  far  distant  West  by  sixteen  Injuns. 
Don't  fail  to  see  this  gerrate  exhibition. 
Only  fifteen  cents.  Don't  go  hum  without 
seein'  the  State  Fair,  an'  you  won't  see  the 
State  Fair  without  you  see  my  show.  Ger- 
ratist exhibition  in  the  known  world,  an'  all 


124      SCENES    OUTSIDE  THE  FAIR   GROUND. 

for  the  small  sum  of  fifteen  cents."  Two 
gentlemen  connected  with  the  press  here 
w^alked  up  and  asked  the  showman,  in 
a  still  small  voice,  if  he  extended  the  usual 
courtesies  to  editors.  He  said  he  did,  and 
requested  them  to  go  in.  While  they 
were  in  some  sly  dog  told  him  their  names. 
When  they  came  out  the  showman  pre- 
tended to  talk  with  them,  though  he  didn't 
say  a  word.  They  were  evidently  in  a 
hurry.  ".There,  gentlcMEN,  what  do  you 
think    them    gentlemen    say  ?     They    air 

editors — editors,  gentleMEN — Mr. of 

the  Cleveland ,  and  Mr. of  the 

Detroit ,  and  they  say  it  is  the  gerra- 

tist  show  they  ever  seed  in  their  born 
days ! "  [Nothing  but  the  tip  ends  of  the 
editors'  coat-tails  could  be  seen  when  the 
showman  concluded  this  speech.] 

A  smart-looking  chap  was  doing  a  brisk 
business  with  a  s^ambliner  contrivance.  See- 
ing  two  policemen  approacli,  he  rapidly 
and  ingeniously  covered  the  dice  up,  mount- 
ed his  table,  and  shouted :  "  'Ere's  the 
only  great  show  on  the  grounds !  The 
highly  trained  and  performing  Mud  Turtle 


SCEHfES    OUTSIDE  THE  FA  in   GROUND.       1 25 

with  nine  heads  and  seventeen  tails,  cap- 
tured in  a  well-fortified  hencoop,  after  a 
desperate  struggle,  in  the  lowlands  of 
the  Wabash  ! !  "  The  facetious  wretch  es- 
caped. 

A  grave,  ministerial-looking  and  elderly 
man  in  a  white  choker  had  a  gift-enterprise 
concern.  "  My  friends,"  he  solemnly  said, 
"  you  will  observe  that  this  jeweliy  is  ele- 
gant indeed,  but  I  can  afford  to  give  it 
away,  as  I  have  a  twin  brother  seven  years 
older  than  I  am,  in  New  York  City,  who 
steals  it  a  great  deal  faster  than  I  can  give 
it  away.  No  blanks,  my  friends — all  prizes 
— and  only  fifty  cents  a  chance.  I  don't 
make  anything  myself,  my  friends — all  I  get 
goes  to  aid  a  sick  woman — my  aunt  in  the 
country,  gentlemen — and  besides  I  like  to 
see  folks  enjoy  themselves ! "  The  old 
scamp  said  all  this  with  a  perfectly  grave 
countenance. 

The  man  with  the  "wonderful  calf  with 
five  legs  and  a  huming  head,"  and  "  the  phil- 
osophical lung-tester,"  were  there.  Then 
there  was  the  Flying  Circus  and  any  num- 
ber of  other  ingenious  contrivances  to  re- 


126      SCEXES   OUTSIDE  THE  FAIR    GROUND. 

lieve  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  from  the 
rural  districts  of  their  spare  change. 

A  young  man  was  bitterly  bewailing  the 
loss  of  his  watch,  which  had  been  cut  from 
his  pocket  by  some  thief.  "  You  ain't 
smart,"  said  a  middle-aged  individual  in  a 
dingy  Kossuth  hat  with  a  feather  in  it,  and 
who  had  a  very  you-can't-fool-me  look. 
"  I've  been  to  the  State  Fair  before,  I  want 
yer  to  understan',  and  know  my  bizniss 
aboard  a  propeller.  Here's  my  money,"  he 
cxultingly  cried,  slapping  his  pantaloons' 
pocket."  About  half  an  hour  after  this  we 
saw  this  smart  individual  rushing  franti- 
cally around  after  a  policeman.  Somebody 
had  adroitly  relieved  him  of  his  money.  In 
his  search  for  a  policeman  he  encountered 
the  young  man  who  wasn't  smart.  "  Maw, 
haw,  haw,"  violently  laughed  the  latter,  "  by 
G — ,  I  tliought  you  was  smart — I  thought 
you'd  been  to  the  Slate  Fair  before."  The 
smart  man  looked  sad  for  a  moment,  but  a 
knowing  smile  soon  crossed  his  face,  and 
drawing  the  young  man  who  wasn't  smart 
confidentially  towards  him,  said:  "There 
wasn't  only  fifty  cents   in   coppers  in  my 


SCENES   OUTSIDE  THE  FAIR   GROUND.       12/ 

pocket — my  money  is  in  my  boot — they 
can't  fool  me — I've  been  to  the  State 
Fair  before!!  " 


He  Declined  "  Biling." — The  students 
of  the  Conneaut  Academy  gave  a  theatrical 
entertainment  a  few  winters  ago.  They 
"executed"  Julius  Cssar,  Everything  went 
off  satisfactorily  until  Caesar  was  killed  in 
the  market-place.  The  stage  accommoda- 
tions were  limited,  and  Caesar  fell  nearly 
under  the  stove  in  which  there  was  a  roar- 
ing fire.     And  when  Brutus  said — 

"  People  and  Senators  I — be  not  affrighted  ; 
Fly  not ;  stand  still — ambition's  debt  is  paid  !" 

he  was  amazed  to  see  Caesar  rise  upon  his 
feet  and  nervously  examine  his  scorched 
garments.  "  Lay  down,  you  fool,"  shouted 
Brutus,  wildly,  "  do  you  want  to  break  up 
the  whole  thing  }  "  "  No,"  returned  Caesar, 
in  an  excited  manner,  "  I  don't :  I  want  to 
act  out  Gineral  Ceesar  in  good  style,  but  I 
ain't  ofoin'  to  bile  under  that  cussed  old 
stove  for  nobody  ! "  This  stopped  the  play, 
and  the  students  abandoned  theatricals 
forthwith. 


128  COLORED  PEOPLE'S   CUURCU. 


VIII. 

COLORED    people's    CHURCH. 

There  is  a  plain  little  meeting-house  on 
Barnwell  street  in  which  the  colored  people 
— or  a  goodly  portion  of  them — worship  on 
Sunda3's.  The  seats  are  cushionless  and 
have  perpendicular  backs.  The  pulpit  is 
plain  white — trimmed  with  red,  it  is  true, 
but  still  a  very  unostentatious  affair  for 
colored  people,  who  are  supposed  to  have 
a  decided  weakness  for  gay  hues.  Should 
you  escort  a  lady  to  this  church  and  scat 
yourself  beside  her,  you  will  infallibly  be 
touched  on  the  shoulder,  and  politely  re- 
quested to  move  to  the  "gentlemen's  side." 
Gentlemen  and  ladies  arc  not  allowed  to 
sit  together  in  this  church.  They  are 
parted  remorselessly.  It  is  hard — we  may 
say  it  is  terrible — to  be  torn  asunder  in 
this  way,  but  you  have  to  submit,  and  of 


COLORED  PEOPLE'S   CHURCH.  1 29 

course  you  had  better  do  so  gracefully  and 
pleasantly. 

Meeting  opens  with  an  old  fashioned 
hymn,  which  is  very  well  sung  indeed,  by 
the  cono^resfation.  Then  the  minister  reads 
a  hymn,  which  is  sung  by  the  choir  on  the 
front  seats  near  the  pulpit.  Then  the  minister 
prays.  He  hopes  no  one  has  been  attract- 
ed there  by  idle  curiosity — to  see  or  be 
seen  —  and  you  naturally  conclude  that 
he  is  gently  hitting  you.  Another  hymn 
follows  the  prayer,  and  then  we  have  the 
discourse,  which  certainly  has  the  merit  of 
peculiarity  and  boldness.  The  minister's 
name  is  Jones.  He  don't  mince  matters  at 
all.  He  talks  about  the  "flames  of  hell" 
with  a  confident  fierceness  that  must  be 
quite  refreshing  to  sinners.  "  There's  no 
half-way  about  this,"  says  he,  "  no  by-paths. 
There  are  in  Cleveland  lots  of  men  who 
go  to  church  regularly,  who  behave  well  in 
meeting,  and  who  pay  their  bills.  They 
ain't  Christians,  though.  They're  gentle- 
men sinners.  And  whar  d'ye  spose  thcyll 
fetch  up?  I'll  tell  ye— they'll  fetch  up  in 
hell,  and  they'll  come  up  standing,  too— 


130  COLORED  PEOPLE'S   CHURCH. 

there's  where  they'll  fetch  up !  Who's  my 
backer?  Have  I  got  a  backer?  Whar's 
my  backer?  This  is  my  backer  (striking 
the  Bible  before  him) — the  Bible  will  back 
me  to  any  amount!"  To  still  further  con- 
vince his  hearers  that  he  was  in  earnest,  he 
exclaimed,  " That's  me — that's  Jones!" 

He  alluded  to  Eve  in  terms  of  bitter 
censure.  It  was  natural  that  Adam  should 
have  been  mad  at  her.  "  I  shouldn't  want 
a  woman  that  wouldn't  mind  me,  myself," 
said  the  speaker. 

He  directed  his  attention  to  dancing, 
declaring  it  to  be  a  great  sin.  "  Whar 
there's  dancing  there's  fiddling  —  whar 
there's  fiddlino;  there's  unrighteousness, 
and  unrighteousness  is  wickedness,  and 
wickedness  is  sin!  That's  me  —  that's^ 
Jones." 

Bosom,  the  speaker  invariably  called 
"buzzim,"  and  devil  "debil,"  with  a  fearfully 
strong  accent  on  the  "il." 


srjiiiTS.  1 3 1 


IX. 

SPIRITS. 

Mr.  Davenport,  who  lias  been  for  sonie 
time  closely  identified  with  the  modern 
spiritual  movement,  is  in  the  City  with  his 
daughter,  who  is  quite  celebrated  as  a 
medium.  They  are  accompanied  by  Mr. 
Eis^hme  and  his  daut^hter,  and  are  holding 
circles  in  Hoffman's  Block  every  afternoon 
and  evening.  We  were  present  at  the 
circle  last  evening.  Miss  Davenport  seated 
herself  at  a  table  on  which  was  a  tin  trum])el, 
a  tamborine,  and  a  guitar.  The  audience 
were  seated  around  the  room.  The  lights 
were  blown  out,  and  the  spirit  of  an  eccen- 
tric individual,  well  known  to  the  Daven- 
ports, and  whom  they  call  George,  addres- 
sed the  audience  through  the  trumpet.  He 
called  several  of  those  present  by  name  in 
a  boisterous  voice,  and  dealt  several  stun- 
mnrr   knocks    on    the    table.     George   has 


132  S FIR  ITS. 

been  in  the  spirit  world  some  two  hundred 
years.  He  is  a  rather  rough  spirit,  and  prob- 
ably run  with  the  machine  and  "  killed  for 
Kyser''  when  in  the  flesh.  He  ordered 
the  seats  in  the  room  to  be  wheeled  round 
so  the  audience  would  face  the  table.  He 
said  the  people  on  the  front  seat  must  be 
tied  with  a  rope.  The  order  was  misunder- 
stood, the  rope  being  merely  drawn  before 
those  on  the  front  seat.  He  reprimanded 
Mr.  Davenport  for  not  understanding  the 
instructions.  What  he  meant  was  that 
the  rope  should  be  passed  once  around 
each  person  on  the  front  seat  and  then 
tightly  drawn,  a  man  at  each  end  of  the 
seat  to  hold  on  to  it.  This  was  done  and 
George  expressed  himself  satisfied.  There 
was  no  one  near  the  table  save  the  me- 
dium. All  the  rest  were  behind  the  rope, 
and  those  on  the  front  seat  were  particu- 
larly charged  not  to  let  any  one  pass  by 
them.  George  said  he  felt  first-rate,  and 
commenced  kissing  the  ladies  present. 
Thje  smack  could  be  distinctly  heard,  and 
some  of  the  ladies  said  the  sensation  was 
very   natural.      Yov   the   first  time   in   our 


SPIIUTS.-  133 

eventful  life  we  sighed  to  be  a  spirit.  We 
envied  George.  We  did  not  understand 
whether  the  kissing  was  done  through  a 
trumpet.  After  kissing  considerably,  and 
indulging  in  some  playful  remarks  with 
a  man  whose  Christian  name  was  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte,  and  whom  George  called 
"  Boney,"  he  tied  the  hands  and  feet  of 
the  medium.  He  played  the  guitar  and 
jingled  the  tamborine,  and  then  dashed 
them  violently  on  tlie  floor.  The  candles 
were  lit  and  Miss  Davenport  was  securely 
tied.  She  could  not  move  her  hands. 
Her  feet  were  bound,  and  the  rope  (which 
was  a  long  one)  was  fastened  to  the  chair. 
No  person  in  the  room  had  been  near 
her  or  had  anything  to  do  with  tieing  her. 
Every  person  who  was  in  the  room  will 
take  his  or 'her  oath  of  that.  She  could 
hardly  have  tied  herself.  We  never  saw 
such  intricate  and  thorough  tieing  in  our 
life.  The  believers  present  were  con- 
vinced that  George  did  it.  The  unbeliev- 
ers didn't  exactly  know  what  to  think 
about  it.  The  candles  were  extinguished 
again,    and    pretty   soon    Miss    Davenport 


134  sriBiTS. 

told  George  to  "  don't."  She  spoke  in 
an  affrighted  tone.  The  candles  were  ht, 
and  she  was  discovered  sitting  on  the 
table — hands  and  feet  tied  as  before,  and 
herself  tied  to  the  chair  withal.  The  lights 
were  again  blown  out,  there  were  sounds 
as  if  some  one  was  lifting  her  from  the 
table ;  the  candles  were  re-lit,  and  she  was 
seen  sitting  in  the  chair  on  the  floor  again. 
No  one  had  been  near  her  from  the  au- 
dience. Again  the  lights  were  extinguish- 
ed, and  presently  the  medium  said  her  feet 
were  wet.  It  appeared  that  the  mischievous 
si)irit  of  one  Biddie,  an  Irish  Miss  who  died 
when  twelve  years  old,  had  kicked  over  the 
water-pail.  Miss  Eighmc  took  a  seat  at 
the  table,  and  the  same  mischievous  Biddie 
scissored  off  a  lil^eral  lock  of  her  hair. 
There  was  the  hair,  and  it  had  indisjiutably 
just  been  taken  from  Miss  Eighme's  head, 
and  her  hands  and  feet,  like  those  of  Miss 
D.,  were  securely  tied.  Other  things  of  a 
staggering  character  to  tlie  skeptic  were 
done  during  the  evening. 


MR.   BLOW  HARD.  1 35 


X. 

MR.  BLOWHARD. 

The  reader  has  probably  met  Mr.  Blow- 
hard.  He  is  usually  round.  You  find  him 
in  all  public  places.  He  is  particularly 
"  numerous  "  at  shows.  Knows  all  the  actors 
intimately.  Went  to  school  with  some  of 
'em.  Knows  how  much  they  get  a  month 
to  a  cent,  and  how  much  liquor  they  can 
hold  to  a  teaspoonful.  He  knows  Ned 
Forrest  like  a  book.  Has  taken  sundiy 
drinks  with  Ned.  Ned  likes  him  much. 
Is  well  acquainted  with  a  certain  actress. 
Could  have  married  her  just  as  easy  as  not 
if  he  had  wanted  to.  Didn't  like  her 
"  style,  "  and  so  concluded  not  to  marry  her. 
Knows  Dan  Rice  well.  Knows  all  of  his 
men  and  hprses.  Is  on  terms  of  affection- 
ate intimacy  with  Dan's  rhinoceros,  and 
is  tolerably  well  acquainted  with  the  per- 
forming elephant.      We  encountered    Mr. 


136  MR.   BLOWHARD. 

Blowhard  at  the  circus  yesterday.  He  was 
entertaining  those  near  him  with  a  full 
account  of  the  whole  institution,  men,  boys, 
horses,  "muils"  and  all.  He  said,  the  rhino- 
ceros was  perfectly  harmless,  as  his  teeth 
had  all  been  taken  out  in  infancy.  Besides, 
the  rhinoceros  was  under  the  influence  of 
opium,  while  he  was  in  the  ring,  which  en- 
tirely prevented  his  injuring  anybody.  No 
danger  whatever.  In  due  course  of  time  the 
amiable  beast  was  led  into  the  rins^.  When 
the  cord  was  taken  from  his  nose,  he  turned 
suddenly  and  manifested  a  slight  desire  to 
run  violently  in  among  some  boys  who  were 
seated  near  the  musicians.  The  keeper, 
with  the  assistance  of  one  of  the  Bedouin 
Arabs,  soon  induced  him  to  change  his 
mind,  and  got  him  in  the  middle  of  the 
ring.  The  pleasant  quadruped  had  no 
sooner  arrived  here  than  he  hastily  started, 
with  a  melodious  bellow,  towards  the  scats 
on  one  of  which  sat  Mr.  Blowhard.  Each 
particular  hair  on  Mr.  Blowhard's  head 
stood  up  "like  squills  upon  the  speckled 
l^orkupinc  "  (Shakspcare  or  Artemus  Ward, 
we  forget  which),  and  he  fell,  with  a  small 


MR.  BLOWHABD  137 

shriek,  down  through  the  seats  to  the 
ground.  He  remained  there  until  the 
agitated  rhinoceros  became  calm,  when  he 
crawled  slowly  back  to  his  seat.  "Keep 
mum, "  he  said,  with  a  very  wise  shake  of 
the  head,  "  I  only  wanted  to  have  some  fun 
with  them  folks  above  us.  I  swar,  I'll  bet 
the  whisky  they  thought  I  was  scared ! " 
Great  character,  that  Blowhard. 


138  MARKET  MORNING. 


XI. 

MARKET    MORNING. 

Hurrah  !  this  is  market  day, 

Up,  lads,  and  gaily  away  ! — Old  Comedy. 

On  market  mornings  there  is  a  roar  and 
a  crash  all  about  the  corner  of  Kinsman 
and  Pittsburgh  streets.  The  market  build- 
ing, so  called  we  presume  because  it  don't 
in  the  least  resemble  a  market  building,  is 
crowded  with  beef  and  butchers,  and  al- 
most countless  meat  and  vegetable  wag- 
ons, of  all  sorts,  are  confusedly  huddled  to- 
gether all  around  outside.  These  wagons 
mostly  come  from  a  few  miles  out  of  town, 
and  are  always  on  the  spot  at  daybreak. 
A  little  after  sunrise  the  crash  and  jam 
commences,  and  continues  with  little  ces- 
sation until  10  o'clock  in  the  forenoon. 
There  is  a  babel  of  tongues,  an  excessively 
cosmopolitan  gathering  of  people,  a  roar  of 
wheels,  and  a  lively  smell  of  beef  and  vege- 


MARKET  MORNING.  1 39 

tables.  The  soap  man,  the  head-ache 
curative  man,  the  razor  man,  and  a  variety 
of  other  tolerable  humbugs  are  in  full  blast. 
We  meet  married  men  with  baskets  in 
their  hands.  Those  who  have  been  fortu- 
nate in  their  selections  look  happy,  while 
some  who  have  been  unlucky  wear  a  de- 
jected air,  for  they  are  probably  destined 
to  get  pieces  of  their  wives'  minds  on  their 
arrival  home.  It  is  true,  that  all  married 
men  have  their  own  way,  but  the  trouble  is 
they  don't  all  have  their  own  way  of  having 
it!  We  meet  a  newly  married  man.  He 
has  recently  set  up  house-keeping.  He  is 
out  to  buy  steak  for  breakfast.  There  are 
only  himself  and  wife  and  female  domestic 
in  the  family.  He  shows  us  his  basket, 
which  contains  steak  enough  for  at  least 
ten  able-bodied  men.  We  tell  him  so,  but 
he  says  we  don't  know  anything  about  war, 
and  passes  on.  Here  comes  a  lady  of  high 
degree,  who  has  no  end  of  servants  to  send 
to  the  market,  but  she  likes  to  come  her- 
self, and  it  won't  prevent  her  shining  and 
sparkling  in  her  elegant  drawing-room  this 
afternoon.     And  she  is  accumulating  mus- 


140  MARKET  MORNING. 

cle  and  freshness  of  face  by  these  walks  to 
market. 

And  here  is  a  charming  picture.  Stand- 
ing beside  a  vegetable  cart  is  a  maiden 
beautiful,  and  sweeter  far  than  any  daisy  in 
the  fields.  Eyes  of  purest  blue,  lips  of 
cherry  red,  teeth  like  pearls,  silken,  golden 
hair,  and  form  of  exquisite  mold.  We 
wonder  if  she  is  a  fairy,  but  instantly  con- 
clude that  she  is  not,  for  in  measuring  out 
a  peck  of  onions  she  spills  some  of  them, 
a  small  boy  laughs  at  the  mishap,  and  she 
indignantly  shies  the  measure  at  his  head. 
Fairies,  you  know,  don't  throw  peck-meas- 
ures at  small  boys'  licads.  The  spell  was 
broken.  The  golden  chain  which  for  a 
moment  bound  us  fell  to  pieces.  We  meet 
an  eccentric  individual  in  corduroy  panta- 
loons and  pepper-and-salt  coat,  who  wants 
to  know  if  we  didn't  sail  out  of  Nantucket 
in  1852  in  the  whaling  brig  Jasper  Green. 
We  are  compelled  to  confess  that  the  only 
nautical  experience  we  ever  had  was  to 
once  temporarily  conunand  a  canal  boat  on 
the  dark-rolling  Wabash,  while  the  captain 
wenl  ashore  to  cave  in  the  head  of  a  mis- 


MARKET  MORNING.  I4I 

creant  who  had  winked  lasciviously  at  the 
sylph  who  superintended  the  culinary  de- 
partment on  board  that  gallant  craft.  The 
eccentric  individual  smiles  in  a  ghastly 
manner,  says  perhaps  we  won't  lend  him  a 
dollar  till  to-morrow;  to  which  we  cour- 
teously reply  that  we  ccr'tainly  won't,  and 
he  glides  away. 

We  return  to  our  hotel,  rcinvigorated 
with  the  early,  healthful  jaunt,  and  bestow 
an  imaginary  purse  of  gold  upon  our  Afri- 
can Brother,  who  brings  us  a  hot  and  ex- 
cellent breakfast. 


142  WE  SEE  TWO    WITCHES. 


XII. 

WE    SEE    TWO    WITCHES. 

Two  female  fortune-tellers  recently  came 
hither,  and  spread  "  small  bills  "  through- 
out the  city.  Being  slightly  anxious,  in 
common  with  a  wide  circle  of  relatives 
and  friends,  to  know  where  we  were 
going  to  and  what  was  to  become  of  us, 
we  visited  both  of  these  eminently  respect- 
able witches  yesterday  and  had  our  fortune 
told  "  twict."  Physicians  sometimes  dis- 
agree, lawyers  invariably  do,  editors  occa- 
sionally fall  out,  and  we  are  pained  to 
say  that  even  witches  unfold  different  tales 
to  one  individual.  In  describing  our  inter- 
views with  these  singularly  gifted  female  wo- 
men, who  are  actually  and  jjositively  here 
in  this  city,  we  must  speak  considerably  of 
"we" — not  because  we  flatter  ourselves 
that   we  are  more  interesting  than  people 


WE  SEE  TWO    WITCHES.  1 43 

in  general,  but  because  in  the  present  case 
it  is  really  necessary.  In  the  language  of 
Hamlets  Pa,  "List,  Olist!" 

We  went  to  see  "  Madame  B."  first.  She 
has  rooms  at  the  Burnett  House.  The 
following  is  a  copy  of  her  bill : 

MADAME    B. 

The  celebrated  Spanish  Astrologist,  Clair- 
voyant and  female  Doctress,  would  respect- 
fully announce  to  the  citizens  that  she  has 
just  arrived  in  this  city,  and  designs  remain- 
ing for  a  few  days  only.  The  Madame  can 
be  consulted  on  all  matters  pertaining  to  life, 
either  past,  present  or  future,  tracing  the 
line  of  life  from  Infancy  to  Old  Age,  par- 
ticularizing each  event,  in  regard  to  Busi- 
ness, Love,  Marriage,  Courtship,  Losses, 
Law  Matters,  and  Sickness  of  Relatives 
and  Friends  at  a  distance. 

The  Madame  will  also  show  her  visitors 
a  life-like  representation  of  their  Future 
Husbands  and  Wives. 

Lucky  Numbers  in  Lotteries  can  also  be 
selected  by  her,  and  hundreds  who  have 
consulted  her  have  drawn  capital  prizes.  The 


144  WE  SEE  TWO    WITCHES. 

Madame  will  furnish  medicine  for  all  dis- 
eases, for  grown  persons,  male  or  female, 
and  children. 

Persons  wishing  to  consult  her  concern- 
ing this  mysterious  art  and  human  destiny, 
particularly  with  reference  to  their  own  in- 
dividual bearing  in  relation  to  a  supposed 
Providence,  can  be  accommodated  by  call- 
ing at  Room  No.  23,  Burnett  House,  cor- 
ner of  Prospect  and  Ontario  streets,  Cleve- 
land. 

The  Madame  has  traveled  extensively 
for  the  last  few  years,  both  in  the  United 
States  and  the  West  Indies,  and  the  suc- 
cess which  has  attended  her  in  all  places 
has  won  for  her  the  reputation  of  being  the 
most  wonderful  Astrologist  of  the  present 
age. 

The  Madame  has  a  superior  faculty  for 
this  business,  having  been  born  with  a  Caul 
on  her  Face,  by  virtue  of  which  she  can 
more  accurately  read  the  past,  present  and 
future ;  also  enabling  her  to  cure  many  dis- 
eases without  using  drugs  or  medicines. 
The  Madame  advertises  nothing  but  what 
she  can  do.     Call  on  her  if  you  would  con- 


WE  SEE  TWO    WITCHES.  1 45 

suit  the  greatest  Foreteller  of  events  now 
living. 

Hours  of  Consultation,  from  8  A.  M.  to 
9  o'clock  P.  M. 

We  urbanely  informed  the  lady  with  the 
"  Caul  on  her  Face  "  that  we  had  called  to 
have  our  fortune  told,  and  she  said  "  hand 
out  your  money."  This  preliminary  being 
settled,  Madame  B.  (who  is  a  tall,  sharp-eyed, 
dark-featured  and  angular  Avoman,  dressed 
in  painfully  positive  colors,  and  heavily 
loaded  with  gold  chain  and  mammoth  jew- 
elry of  various  kinds)  and  Jupiter  indicated 
powerful  that  we  were  a  slim  constitution, 
which  came  down  on  to  us  from  our  father's 
side.  Wherein  our  constitution  was  not 
slim,  so  it  came  down  on  to  us  from  our 
mother  s  side.  "  Is  this  so  ?  "  and  we  said 
it  was.  "  Yes,"  continued  the  witch,  "  I 
know'd  t'was.  You  can't  deceive  Jupiter, 
me,  nor  any  other  planick.  You  may  swim 
over  Hell's-Point  same  as  Leander  did,  but 
you  can't  deceive  the  planicks.  Give  me 
yer  hand !  Times  ain't  so  easy  as  they  has 
been^  So — so — but  'tis  temp'ry.  T'wont 
7 


146  WE  SEE  TVy^O    WITCHES. 

last  long.  Times  will  be  easy  soon.  You 
may  be  tramped  on  to  onct  or  twict,  but 
you'll  rekiver.  You  have  talenk,  me  child. 
You  kin  make  a  Congresser  if  sich  you 
likes  to  be.  [We  said  we  would  be  excused 
if  it  was  all  the  same  to  her.]  You  kin  be 
a  lawyer.  [We  thanked  her,  but  said  we 
would  rather  retain  our  present  good  moral 
character,]  You  kin  be  a  soldier.  You 
have  courage  enough  to  go  to  the  Hostrian 
wars  and  kill  the  French.  [We  informed 
her  that  we  had  already  murdered  some 
"  English."]  You  won't  have  much  money 
till  you're  thirty-three  years  of  old.  Then 
you  will  have  large  sums — forty  thousand 
dollars  perhaps.  Look  out  for  it!  [We 
promised  we  would.  |  You  have  traveled 
some,  and  you  will  travel  more,  which  will 
make  your  travels  more  extensiver  than  tlicy 
has  been.  You  will  go  to  Californy  by  way 
of  Pike's  Pick.  [Same  route  taken  by 
Horace  Greeley.]  If  nothin'  happens  on 
to  you  you  won't  meet  with  no  accidents 
and  will  get  through  pleasant,  which  you 
otherwise  will  not  do  under  all  circumstan- 
ces however  which  doth  happens  to  all  both 


WE  SEE  TWO    WITCHES.  1 47 

great  and  small  likewise  to  the  rich  as  also 
the  poor.  Hearken  to  me!  There  has 
been  deaths  in  your  family,  and  there  will 
be  more!  But  Reserve  your  constitution 
and  you  will  live  to  be  seventy  years  of  old. 
Me  child,  her  hair  will  be  black — black  as 
the  Raving's  wing.  Likewise  black  will 
also  be  her  eyes,  and  she'll  be  as  different 
from  which  you  air  as  night  and  day.  Look 
out  for  the  darkish  man!  He's  yer  rival! 
Beware  of  the  darkish  man !  [We  prom- 
ised that  we'd  introduce  a  funeral  into  the 
"  darkish  man's "  family  the  moment  we 
encountered  him.]  Me  child,  there's  more 
sunshine  than  clouds  for  ye,  and  send  all 
your  friends  up  here. 

A  word  before  you  goes.  Expose  not 
yourself.  Your  eyes  is  sailer  which  is  on 
accounts  of  bile  on  your  systim.  Some 
don't  have  'bile  on  to  their  systims  which 
their  eyes  is  not  sailer.  This  bile  ascends 
down  on  to  you  from  many  generations 
which  is  in  their  graves  and  peace  to  their 
ashes. 


148  WE  SEE  TWO    WITCUES. 

MADAME    CROMPTON. 

We  then  proceeded  directly  to  Madame 
Crompton,  the  other  fortune-teller. 
Below  is  her  bill : 

MADAME    R.    CROMPTON, 

The  world-renowned  Fortune  Teller  and 
Astrologist.  Madame  Crompton  begs  leave 
to  inform  the  citizens  of  Cleveland  and  vicin- 
ity, that  she  has  taken  rooms  at  the  Far- 
mers' St.  Clair  House,  corner  of  St.  Clair 
and  Water  Streets,  where  she  may  be  con- 
sulted on  all  matters  pertaining  to  Past  and 
Future  Events.  Also,  giving  information 
of  Absent  Friends,  whether  living  or 
dead. 

P.S. — Persons  having  lost  or  having  prop- 
erty stolen  of  any  kind,  will  do  well  to  give 
her  a  call,  as  she  will  describe  the  person  or 
persons  with  such  accuracy  as  will  astonish 
the  most  devout  critic. 

Terms  Reasonable. 

She  has  rooms  at  the  Farmers'  Hotel,  as 
stated  in  the  bill  above.    She  was  driving  an 


WE  SEE  TWO    WITCHES.  1 49 

extensive  business,  and  we  were  forced  to 
wait  half  an  hour  or  so  for  a  chance  to  see 
her.  Madame  Crompton  is  of  the  Enghsh 
persuasion,  and  has  evidently  searched  many 
long  years  in  vain  for  her  H.  She  is  small 
in  stature,  but  considerably  inclined  to  cor- 
pulency, and  her  red  round  face  is  contin- 
ually wreathed  in  smiles,  reminding  one  of 
a  new  tin  pan  basking  in  the  noonday  sun. 
She  took  a  greasy  pack  of  common  playing- 
cards,  and  requested  us  to  "  cut  them  in 
three,"  which  we  did.  She  spread  them  out 
before  her  on  the  table,  and  said :  "Sir  to 
you  which  I  speaks.  You  'av  been  terrible 
crossed  in  love,  and  your  'art  'as  been  much 
panged.  But  you'll  get  all  over  it  and  marry 
a  light  complected  gale  with  rayther  reddish 
'air.  Before  some  time  you'll  have  a  leg- 
gercy  fall  down  on  to  you,  mostly  in  solick 
Jold.  There  may  be  a  lawsuit  about  it 
and  you  may  be  sup-prisoned  as  a  witnesses, 
but  you'll  git  it — mostly  in  solick  Jold,  which 
you  will  keep  in  chists,  and  you  must  look 
out  for  them.  [We  said  we  would  keep  a 
skinned  optic  on  "  them  chists."]  You  'as 
a  enemy  and  he's  a  lightish  man.  He  wants 


ISO  WE  SEE  TWO    WITCHES. 

to  defraud  you  out  of  your 'onesty.  He  is 
tellink  lies  about  you  now  in  the  'opes  of 
crushin'  yourself  [A  weak  invention  of 
"  the  opposition."]  You  never  did  nothin' 
bad.  Your  'art  is  right.  You  'ave  a  great 
taste  for  bosses  and  like  to  stay  with  'em. 
Mister  to  you  I  sez  !  Gard  aginst  the  lightish 
man  and  all  will  be  w^ell."  The  supernatural 
being  then  took  an  oval-shaped  chunk  of 
glass  (which  she  called  a  stone  )  and  re- 
quested us  to  "  hang  on  to  it."  She  looked 
into  it  and  said  :  "  If  you're  not  keerful 
when  you  git  your  money  you'll  lose  it,  but 
which  otherwise  you  will  not,  and  fifty  cents 
is  as  cheap  as  I  kin  afford  to  tell  anybody's 
fortune  and  no  great  sliakcs  made  then  as 
the  Lord  in  Hcviivj"  knows." 


EOVGU  BEGINNING   OF  TUE  HONEYMOON.     15I 


XIII. 

ROUGH    BEGINNING    OF    THE    HONEYMOON. 

On  last  Friday  morning  an  athletic  young 
farmer  in  the  town  of  Waynesburg  took  a 
fair  girl,  "  all  bathed  in  blushes,"  from  her 
parents,  and  started  for  the  first  town  across 
the  Pennsylvania  line  to  be  married,  where 
the  ceremony  could  be  performed  without 
a  license.     The  happy  pair  were  accompa- 
nied by  a  sister  of  the  girl — a  tall,  gaunt, 
and  sharp-featured  female  of  some  thirty- 
seven  summers.     The  pair  crossed  the  line, 
were  married,  and  returned  to  Wellsville  to 
pass  the  night.     People  at  the  hotel  \\hcre 
the  wedding  party  stopped  observed  that 
they  conducted  themselves  in  a  rather  sin- 
gular manner.     The  husband  would  take 
his   sister-in-law,  the  tall  female  aforesaid, 
into  one  corner  of  the  parlor  and  talk  ear- 
nestly to  her,  gesticulating  wildly  the  while. 


152     ROUGH  BEGINNING   OF  THE  HONEYMOON. 

Then  the  tall  female  would  "  put  her  foot 
down "  and  talk  to  him  in  an  angry  and 
excited  manner.  Then  the  husband  would 
take  his  fair  young  bride  into  a  corner,  but 
he  could  no  sooner  commence  talking  to 
her  than  the  gaunt  sister  would  rush  in  be- 
tween them  and  angrily  join  in  the  conver- 
sation. The  people  at  the  hotel  ascertained 
what  all  this  meant  about  9  o'clock  that 
evening.  There  was  an  uproar  in  the  room 
which  had  been  assigned  to  the  newly-mar- 
ried couple.  Female  shrieks  and  mascu- 
line "  swears  "  startled  the  people  at  the  ho- 
tel, and  they  rushed  to  the  spot.  The  gaunt 
female  was  pressing  and  kicking  against 
the  door  of  the  room,  and  the  newly-mar- 
ried man,  mostly  undressed,  was  barring 
her  out  with- all  his  might.  Occasionally 
she  would  kick  the  door  far  enough  open 
to  disclose  the  stalwart  husband,  in  his  Gen- 
tleman Greek  Slave  apparel.  It  appeared 
that  the  tall  female  insisted  upon  occupying 
the  same  room  with  the  newly-wedded  pair ; 
that  her  sister  was  favorably  disposed  to  the 
arrangement,  and  that  the  husband  had 
agreed  to  it  before  the  wedding  took  place, 


ROUGH  BEGINNING    OF  THE  HONEYMOON.     1 53 

and  was  now  indignantly  repudiating  the 
contract.  "  Won't  you  go  away  now,  Su- 
san, peaceful  ?"  said  the  newly-married  man, 
softening  his  voice. 

"  No,"  said  she,  "  I  won't— so  there !  " 

"Don't  you  budge  an  inch!"  cried  the 
married  sister  within  the  room. 

"  Now — now,  Maria,"  said  the  young  man 
to  his  wife,  in  a  piteous  tone,  "  don't  go  for 
to  cuttin'  up  in  this  way:  now  don't! " 

"  I'll  cut  up  's  much  I  wanter !  "  she  sharply 
replied. 

"  Well,"  roared  the  desperate  man,  throw- 
ing the  door  wide  open  and  stalking  out 
among  the  crowd,  "  well,  jest  you  two  wimin 
put  on  your  duds  and  go  right  straight 
home  and  bring  back  the  old  man  and  wo- 
man, and  your  grandfather,  who  is  nigh  on 
to  a  hundred;  bring  'em  all  here,  a/id  Fll 
marry  the  whole  d — d  caboodle  of  'em,  and 
we  II  all  sleep  together !  " 

The  difficulty  was  finally  adjusted  by  the 

tall  female  taking  a  room   alone.     W^ells- 

ville  is  enjoying  itself  over  the  "sensation." 
7* 


154  FROM  A   UOMELY  MAN. 


XIV. 

FROM    A    HOMELY    MAN. 

Dear  Plain  Dealer, — I  am  a  plain 
man,  and  there  is  a  melancholy  fitness 
in  my  unbosoming  my  sufferings  to  the 
"  Plain "  Dealer.  Plain  as  you  may  be 
in  your  dealings,  however,  I  am  convinc- 
ed you  never  before  had  to  deal  with  a 
correspondent  so  hopelessly  plain  as  I. 
Yet  plain  don't  half  express  my  looks. 
Indeed  I  doubt  very  much  whether  any 
word  in  the  English  language  could  be 
found  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  my 
absolute  and  utter  homeliness.  The  dates 
in  the  old  family  Bible  show  that  I  am 
in  the  decline  of  life,  but  I  cannot  recall 
a  period  in  my  existence  when  I  felt  really 
young.  My  very  infancy,  those  brief 
months  when  babes  ]:)rattlc  joyously  and 
know   nothing   of  care,   was   darkened   by 


FROM  A   HOMELY  MAN.  I  55 

a  shadowy  presentiment  of  what  I  was 
to  endure  through  hfe,  and  my  youtli 
was  rendered  dismal  by  continued  repeti- 
tions of  a  fact  painfully  evident  "  on  the 
face  of  it,"  that  tlie  boy  was  growing 
homelier  and  homelier  every  day.  Mem- 
ory, that  with  other  people  recalls  so 
much  that  is  sweet  and  pleasant  to  think 
of  in  connection  with  their  youth,  with 
me  brings  up  nothing  but  mortification, 
bitter  tears,  I  had  almost  said  curses,  on 
my  solitary  and  homely  lot.  I  have  wished 
— a  thousand  times  wished — that  Memory 
had  never  consented  to  take  a  seat  "  in  this 
distracted  o-lobe." 

You  have  heard  of  a  man  so  homely 
that  he  couldn't  sleep  nights,  his  face 
ached  so.  Mr.  Editor,  I  am  that  melan- 
choly individual.  Whoever  perpetrated 
the  joke — for  joke  it  was  no  doubt  in- 
tended to  be — knew  not  how  much  truth 
he  was  uttering,  or  how  bitterly  tlie  idle 
squib  would  rankle  in  the  heart  of  one 
suffering  man.  INIany  and  many  a  night 
have  I  in  my  childhood  laid  awake  thinking 
of  my  homeliness,  and  as  the  moonlight 


156  FROM  A   HOMELY  MAN. 

has  streamed  in  at  the  window  and  fell 
upon  the  handsome  and  placid  features 
of  my  little  brother  slumbering  at  my 
side,  God  forgive  me  for  the  wicked 
thought,  but  I  have  felt  an  almost  un- 
conquerable impulse  to  forever  disfigure 
and  mar  that  sweet  upturned  innocent 
face  that  smiled  and  looked  so  beautiful 
in  sleep,  for  it  was  ever  reminding  me  of 
the  curse  I  was  doomed  to  carry  about  me. 
Many  and  many  a  night  have  I  got  up  in 
my  night-dress,  and  lighting  my  little  lamp, 
sat  for  hours  gazing  at  my  terrible  ugliness 
of  face  reflected  in  the  mirror,  drawn  to  it 
by  a  cruel  fascination  which  it  was  impos- 
sible for  me  to  resist. 

I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  am  a  single 
man,  and  yet  I  have  had  what  men  call 
affairs  of  the  heart.  I  have  known  what 
it  is  to  worship  the  heart's  embodiment 
of  female  loveliness,  and  purity,  and  truth, 
but  it  was  generally  at  a  distance  entirely 
safe  to  the  object  of  my  adoration.  Being 
of  a  susceptible  nature  I  was  continually 
falling  in  love,  but  never,  save  with  one 
single  exception,  did  I  venture  to  declare 


FROM  A    HOMELY  MAN.  157 

my  flame.  I  saw  my  heart's  palpitator 
walking  in  a  grove.  Moved  by  my  con- 
suming love  I  rushed  towards  her,  and 
throwing  myself  at  her  feet  began  to 
pour  forth  the  long  pent-up  emotions  of 
my  heart.     She  gave  one  look  and  then 

"  Shrieked  till  all  the  rocks  replied  ; " 

at  least  you'd  thought  they  replied  if  you 
had  seen  me  leave  that  grove  with  a  speed 
greatly  accelerated  by  a  shower  of  rocks 
from  the  hands  of  an  enraged  brother,  who 
was  at  hand.  That  prepossessing  young 
lady  is  now  slowly  recovering  her  reason 
in  an  institution  for  the  insane. 

Of  my  further  troubles  I  may    perhaps 
inform  you  at  some  future  time. 

Homely  Man. 


15S  TUE  ELEPHANT. 


XV. 

THE    ELEPHANT. 

Some  two  years  since,  on  the  strength  of 
wliat  we  regarded  as  rehable  information, 
we  announced  the  death  of  the  elephant 
Hannibal  at  Canton,  and  accompanied  the 
announcement  with  a  short  biographical 
sketch  of  that  remarkable  animal.  We 
happened  to  be  familiar  with  several  inter- 
esting incidents  in  the  private  life  of  Han- 
nibal, and  our  sketch  was  copied  by  almost 
every  paper  in  America  and  by  several  Eu- 
ropean journals.  A  few  months  ago  a 
"  traveled  "  friend  showed  us  the  sketch  in 
a  Parisian  journal,  and  possibly  it  is  "  going 
the  rounds"  of  the  Chinese  papers  by  this 
time.  A  few  days  after  we  had  printed  his 
obituary  Hannibal  came  to  town  with  Van 
Amijurgh's  Menagerie,  and  the  same  type 


THE  ELEPHANT.  159 

which  killed  the  monster  restored  him  to 
life  again. 

About  once  a  year  Hannibal 

"  Gets  on  a  spree, 
And  goes  bobbin'  around," 

to  make  a  short  quotation  from  a  once  popu- 
lar ballad.  These  sprees,  in  fact,  "is  what's 
the  matter  with  him."  The  other  day,  in 
Williamsburg,  Long  Island,  he  broke  loose 
in  the  canvas,  emptied  most  of  the  cages, 
and  tore  through  the  town  like  a  mammoth 
pestilence.  An  extensive  crowd  of  athletic 
men,  by  jabbing  him  with  spears  and  pitch- 
forks, and  coiling  big  ropes  around  his  legs, 
succeeded  in  capturing  him.  The  animals 
he  had  set  free  were  caught  and  restored 
to  their  cages  without  much  difficulty.  We 
doubt  if  we  shall  ever  forget  our  first  view 
of  Hannibal — which  was  also  our  first  view 
of  any  elephant — of  t/ie  elephant,  in  short. 
It  was  at  the  close  of  a  sultry  day  in  June, 
18—.  The  sun  had  spent  its  fury  and  was 
going  to  rest  among  the  clouds  o^  gold  and 
crimson.     A  solitary  horseman  might  have 


l6o  TUE  ELEPHANT. 

been  seen  slowly  ascending  a  long  hill  in  a 
New  England  town.  That  solitary  horse- 
man was  2is,  and  we  were  mounted  on  the 
old  white  mare.  Two  bags  were  strapped 
to  the  foaming  steed.  That  was  before  we 
became  wealthy,  and  of  course  we  are  not 
ashamed  to  say  that  we  had  been  to  mill, 
and  consequently  them  bags  contained  flour 
and  middlin's.  Presently  a  ■  large  object 
appeared  at  the  top  of  the  hill.  We  had 
heard  of  the  devil  and  had  been  pretty  often 
told  that  he  would  have  a  clear  deed,  and 
title  to  us  before  long,  but  had  never  heard 
him  painted  like  the  object  which  met  our 
gaze  at  the  top  of  that  hill,  on  the  close  of 
that  sultry  day  in  June.  Concluding  (for 
we  were  a  mere  youth)  that  it  was  an  eccen- 
tric whale,  who  had  come  ashore  near  North 
Yarmouth  and  was  making  a  tour  through 
the  interior  on  wheels,  we  hastily  turned 
our  steed  and  made  for  the  mill  at  a  rapid 
rate.  Once  we  threw  over  ballast,  after  the 
manner  of  balloonists,  and  as  the  object 
gained  on  us  we  cried  aloud  for  our  parents, 
Fortunately  we  reached  the  mill  in  safety 


THE  ELEPIIAKT.  .l6l 

and  the  object  passed  at  a  furious  rate,  with 
a  portion  of  a  woodshed  on  its  back.  It 
was  Hannibal,  who  had  run  away  from  a 
neighboring  town,  taking  a  shed  with  him. 


Drank    Standin'. — CoL  is   a  big 

"  railroad  man."  He  attended  a  railroad 
supper  once.  Champagne  fio\ved  freely, 
and  the  Colonel  got  more  than  his  share. 
Speeches  were  made  after  the  removal  of 
the  cloth.  Somebody  arose  and  eulogized 
the  Colonel  in  the  steepest  possible  manner 
—called  him  great,  good,  patriofic,  enterpris- 
ing, &c.,  &c.  The  speaker  was  here  inter- 
rupted by  the  illustrious  Colonel  himself, 
who,  arising  with  considerable  difficulty, 
and  beaming  benevolently  around  the  table, 
gravely  said :  "  Let's  (hie)  drink  that  sedi- 
munt  standin' !"     It  was  done 


l62 


BUSTS. 


XVI. 

BUSTS. 

There  are  in  this  city  several  Italian 
gentlemen  engaged  in  the  bust  business. 
They  have  their  peculiarities  and  eccen- 
tricities. They  are  swarthy-faced,  wear 
slouched  caps  and  drab  pea-jackets,  and 
smoke  bad  cigars.  They  make  busts  of 
Webster,  Clay,  Bonaparte,  Douglas,  and 
other  great  men,  living  and  dead.  The 
Italian  buster  comes  upon  you  solemnly 
and  cautiously.  "  Buy  Napo-leon  ?  "  he  will 
say,  and  yon  may  probably  ansv/er  "  not  a 
buy."  "  How  much  giv-ee  ?  "  he  asks,  and 
perhaps  you  will  ask  him  how  much  he 
wants.  "  Nine  dollar,"  he  will  answer  al- 
ways. We  are  sure  of  it.  We  have  ob- 
served this  peculiarity  in  the  busters  fre- 
quently. No  matter  how  large  or  small  the 
bust  may  be,  the  first  price  is  invariably 
"nine  dollar."  If  you  decline  paying  this 
price,  as  you  undoubtedly  will  if  you  arc 


BUSTS.  163 

right  in  your  head,  he  again  asks,  "how 
much  giv-ee  ?  "  By  way  of  a  joke  you  say 
"  a  dollar,"  when  the  buster  retreats  indig- 
nantly to  the  door,  saying  in  a  low,  wild 
voice,  "O  dam!  "  With  his  hand  upon  the 
door-latch,  he  turns  and  once  more  asks, 
"  how  much  giv-ee  ?  "  You  repeat  the  pre- 
vious offer,  when  he  mutters,  "  O  ha !  "  then 
coming  pleasantly  towards  you,  he  speaks 
thus :  "  Say !  how  much  giv-ee  ?  "  Again 
you  say  a  dollar,  and  he  cries,  "  take  'urn — 
take  um!" — thus  falling  eight  dollars  on 
his  original  price. 

Very  eccentric  is  the  Italian  buster,  and 
sometimes  he  calls  his  busts  by  wrong 
names.  We  bought  Webster  (he  called  him 
Web-STAR)  of  him  the  other  day,  and  were 
astonished  when  he  called  upon  us  the  next 
day  with  another  bust  of  Webster,  exactly 
like  the  one  w^e  had  purchased  of  him,  and 
asked  us  if  we  didn't  want  to  buy  "  Cole, 
the  wife-pizener !  "  We  endeavored  to  re- 
buke the  depraved  buster,  but  our  utterance 
was  choked  and  we  could  only  gaze  upon 
him  in  speechless  astonishment  and  indig- 
nation. 


164     A   COLORED  MAN  OF  THE  NAME  OF  JEFFRIES. 


XVII. 

A  COLORED  MAN  OF  THE  NAME  OF  JEFFRIES. 

One  beautiful  day  last  August,  Mr.  El- 
mer, of  East  Cleveland,  sent  his  hired  col- 
ored man,  of  the  name  of  Jeffries,  to  town 
with  a  two-horse  wagon  to  get  a  load  of 
lime.  Mr.  Elmer  gave  Jeffries  $5  with 
which  to  pay  for  the  lime.  The  horses 
were  excellent  ones,  by  the  way,  nicely 
matched,  and  more  than  commonly  fast. 
The  colored  man  of  the  name  of  Jeffries 
came  to  town  and  drove  to  the  Johnson 
street  Station,  where  he  encountered  a  frail 
young  woman  of  the  name  of  Jenkins,  who 
had  just  been  released  from  Jail,  where  she 
had  been  confined  for  naughtycal  conduct 
(drugging  and  robbing  a  sailor).  "  Will 
you  fly  with  me,  adorable  Jenkins } "  he  unto 
her  did  say,  "  or  words  to  that  effect,"  and 
unto  him  in  reply  she  did  up  and  say :  "  My 


A   COLOBED  MAK  OF  THE  NAME  OF  JEFFRIES.     1 65 

African  brother,  I  will.  Spirit,"  she  con- 
tinued, alluding  to  a  stone  jug  under  the 
seat  in  the  wagon,  "  I  follow! "  Then  into 
the  two-horse  wagon  this  fair  maiden  got, 
and  knavely  telling  the  "  perlice  "  to  embark 
by  the  first  packet  for  an  unromantic  land, 
where  the  climate  is  intensely  Tropical,  and 
where  even  Laplanders,  who  like  fire,  get 
more  of  a  good  thing  than  they  want — 
doing  and  saying  thus  the  woman  of  the 
name  of  Jenkins  mounted  the  seat  with  the 
colored  man  of  the  name  of  Jeffries ;  and 
so  these  two  sweet,  gushing  children  of 
Nature  rode  gaily  away.  Away  towards 
the  setting  sun. '  Away  towards  Indiana — 
bright  land  of  cheap  whiskey  and  corn 
doin's ! 


1 66    now  THE  NAPOLEON  OF  SELLERS  WAS  SOLD. 


XVIII. 

HOW    THE     NAPOLEON     OF    SELLERS    WAS 
SOLD. 

We  have  read  a  great  many  stories  of 
which  Winchell,  the  great  wit  and  mimic, 
was  the  hero,  showing  alway  show  neatly 
and  entirely  he  sold  somebod)^.  Any  one 
who  is  familiar  with  Winchell's  wonderful 
powers  of  mimicry  cannot  doubt  that  these 
stories  are  all  substantially  true.  But  there 
is  one  instance  which  we  will  relate,  or 
perish  in  the  attempt,  where  the  jolly  Win- 
chell was  himself  sold.  The  other  even- 
ing, while  he  was  conversing  with  several 
gentlemen  at  one  of  the  hotels,  a  dilapidated 
individual  reeled  into  the  room  and  halted 
in  front  of  the  stove,  where  he  made  wild 
and  unsuccessful  efforts  to  maintain  a  firm 
position.  He  evidently  had  spent  the  even- 
ing in  marching  torchlight  processions  of 


now  THE  NAPOLEON  OF  SELLERS  WAS  SOLD.     1 6/ 

forty-rod  whiskey  down  his  throat,  and  at  tliis 
particular  time  was  decidedly  and  disrepu- 
tably drunk.  With  a  sly  wink  to  the  crowd, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  we'll  have  some  fun 
with  this  individual,  "  Winchell  assumed  a 
solemn  face,  and  in  a  ghostly  voice  said  to 
one  of  the  company  : 

"  The  poor  fellow  we  were  speaking  of  is 
dead !  " 

"  No  ?  "  said  the  individual  addressed. 

"  Yes,"  said  Winchell ;  "  you  know  both 
of  his  eyes  were  gouged  out,'  his  nose  was 
chawed  off,  and  both  of  his  arms  were  torn 
out  at  the  roots.  Of  course  he  couldn't  re- 
cover." 

This  was  all  said  for  the  benefit  of  the 
drunken  man,  who  was  standing,  or  trying 
to  stand,  within  a  few  feet  of  Winchell,  but 
he  took  no  sort  of  notice  of  it  and  was  ap- 
parently ignorant  of  the  celebrated  delin- 
eator's presence.  Again  Winchell  en- 
deavored to  attract  his  attention,  but  utterly 
failed  as  before.  In  a  few  moments  the 
drunken  man  staggered  out  of  the  room. 

"  I  can  generally  have  a  little  fun  with  a 


1 68    now  THE  NAPOLEON  OF  SELLERS  WAS  SOLD 

drunken  man,"  said  Winchell,  "  but  it  is  no 
go  in  this  case." 

"  I  suppose  you  know  what  ails  the  man 
who  just  went  out  ? "  said  the  "  gentlemanly 
host." 

"  I  perceive  he  is  alarmingly  inebriated," 
said  Winchell ;  "  does  anything  else  ail 
him .?  "        • 

"  Yes,"  said  the    host,  "  he's  deaf    and 

DUMB  !  " 

This  was  true.  There  was  a  "  larf,"  and 
Winchell,  with  the  remark  that  he  was 
sorry  to  see  a  disposition  in  that  assemblage 
"  to  deceive  an  orphan,"  called  for  a  light 
and  went  gravely  to  bed. 


ON  AUTUMN.  169 


XIX. 

ON    AUTUMN. 

Poets  are  wont  to  apostrophize  the  leafy 
month  of  June,  and  there  is  no  denying  that 
if  Spring  is  "  some  "  June  is  Summer.  But 
there  is  a  gorgeous  magnificence  about  the 
habiliments  of  Nature,  and  a  teeming  fruit- 
fulness  upon  her  lap  during  the  autumnal 
months,  and  we  must  confess  we  have 
always  felt  genially  inclined  towards  this 
season.  It  is  true,  when  we  concentrate 
our  field  of  vision  to  the  minute  garniture 
of  earth,  we  no  longer  observe  the  beautiful 
petals,  nor  inhale  the  fragrance  of  a  gay  par- 
terre of  the  "  floral  epistles  "  and  "  angel- 
like collections  "  which  Longfellow  (we  be- 
lieve) so  graphically  describes,  and  which 
Shortfellows  so  fantastically  carry  about  in 
their  button-holes  ;  but  we  have  all  their 
tints  reproduced  upon  a  higher  and  broader 
canvas  in  the  kaleidoscopic  colors  with 
s 


I/O  ON  A UTUMK 

which  the  sky  and  the  forest  daily  enchant 
us,  and  the  beautiful  and'  luscious  fruits 
which  Autumn  spreads  out  before  us,  and 

"  Crowns  the  rich  promise  of  the  opening  Spring." 

In  another  point  of  view  Autumn  is  sug- 
gestive of  pleasant  reflections.  The  wea- 
rying, wasting  heat  of  summer,  and  the 
deadly  blasts  with  which  her  breath  has  for 
some  years  been  freighted,  are  past,  and 
the  bracing  north  winds  begin  to  bring 
balm  and  healing  on  their  wings.  The 
hurly-burly  of  travel,  and  most  sorts  of  pub- 
licity (except  newspapers),  are  fast  playing 
out,  and  we  can  once  more  hope  to  see  our 
friends  and  relations  in  the  happy  sociality 
of  home  and  fireside  enjoyjnents.  Yield- 
ing, as  we  do,  the  full  force  to  which  Au- 
tumn is  seriously  entitled,  or  rather  to  the 
serious  reflections  and  admonitions  which 
the  decay  of  Nature  and  the  dying  year 
always  inspire,  and  admitting  the  poet's 
decade : 

"  Leaves  have  their  time  to  fall,        jg 
And  stars  to  set, — but  all, 
Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  O  Death  !" 


ON  AUTUMN.  \yi 

there  is  a  brighter  Autumn  beyond,  and 
brighter  opening  years  to  those  who  choose 
them  rather  than  dead  leaves  and  bitter 
fruits.  Thus  we  can  conclude  tranquilly 
with  Bryant  as  we  began  gaily  with  anoth- 
er,— 

"  So  live,  that  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan,  which  moves 
To  that  mysterious  realm,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death, 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night. 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon,  but,  sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams." 


1/2     PAYING  FOR  HIS  PROVENDER  BY  PRAYING. 


XX. 

PAYING  FOR  HIS  PROVENDER  BY  PRAYING. 

We  have  no  intention  of  making  fun  of 
serious  matters  in  telling  the  following 
story ;  we  merely  relate  a  fact. 

There  is  a  rule  at  Oberlin  College  that 
no  student  shall  board  at  any  house  where 
prayers  are  not  regularly  made  each  day. 
A  certain  man  fitted  up  a  boarding-house 
and  filled  it  with  boarders,  but  forgot,  until 
the  eleventh  hour,  the  prayer  proviso.  Not 
being  a  praying  man  himself,  he  looked 
around  for.  one  who  was.  At  length  he 
found  one — a  meek  young  man  from  Trum- 
bull County — who  agreed  to  pay  for  his 
board  in  praying.  For  a  while  all  went 
smoothly,  but  the  boarding-master  furnished 
his  table  so  poorly  that  the  boarders  began 
to  grumble  and  to  leave,  and  the  other 
the    praying     boarder     actually 


PAYING  FOR  EIS  PROVENDER  BY  PRAYING.     1/3 

*'  struck  ! "  Something  like  the  following 
dialogue  occurred  at  the  table : 

Landlord — Will  you  pray,  Mr.  Mild  ? 

Mild— No,  sir,  I  will  not. 

Landlord — Why  not,  Mr.  Mild } 

Mild — It  don't  pay,  sir.  I  can't  pray  on 
such  victuals  as  these.  And  unless  you 
bind  yourself  in  writing  to  set  a  better  ta- 
ble than  you  have  for  the  last  three  weeks, 
7tary  another  prayer  do  you  get  out  of  me  ! 

And  that's  the  way  the  matter  stood  at 
latest  advices. 


174  NAMES. 


XXI. 

NAMES. 

Any  name  which  is  suggestive  of  a  joke, 
however  poor  the  joke  may  be,  is  often  a 
nuisance.  We  were  once  "  confined  "  in 
.a  printing-office  with  a  man  named  Snow. 
Everybody  who  came  in  was  bound  to  have 
a  joke  about  Snow.  If  it  was  Summer  the 
mad  wags  would  say  we  ought  to  be  cool, 
for  we  had  Snow  there  all  the  time — which 
was  a  fact,  though  we  sometimes  wished 
Snow  was  where  he  would  speedily  melt. 
Not  that  we  didn't  like  Snow.  Far  from  it. 
His  name  was  what  disgusted  us.  It  was 
also  once  our  misfortune  to  daily  mingle 
with  a  man  named  Berry.  We  can't  tell 
how  many  million  times  we  heard  him 
called  Elderberry,  Raspberry,  Blueberry, 
Huckleberry,  Gooseberry,  etc.  The  thing 
nearly  made  him  deranged.     He  joined  the 


NAMES.  175 

filibusters  and  has  made  energetic  efforts 
to  get  shot,  but  had  not  succeeded  at  last 
accounts,  although  we  fear  he  has  been 
"  slewd "  mimcroiisly.  There  is  a  good 
deal  in  a  name,  our  usually  correct  friend 
W.  Shakespeare  to  the  contrary  notwith- 
standing. 

Our  own  name  is  unfortunately  one  on 
which  jokes,  such  as  they  are,  can  be  made. 
We  cannot  present  a  tabular  statement  of 
the  times  we  have  done  things  brown  (in 
the  opinion  of  partial  friends),  or  have  been 
asked  if  we  were  related  to  the  eccentric 
old  slave  and  horse  "liberator"  whose  re- 
cent Viro-inia  Reel  has  attracted  so  much 
of  the  public's  attention.  Could  we  do  so 
the  array  of  figures  would  be  appalling. 
And  sometimes  we  think  we  will  accept 
the  first  good  offer  of  marriage  that  is 
made  to  us,  for  the  purpose  of  changing 
our  unhappy  name,  setting  other  interest- 
inor  considerations  entirely  aside. 


1/6  HUNTING   TROUBLE. 


XXII. 

HUNTING     TROUBLE. 

Hunting  trouble  is  too  fashionable  in  this 
world.  Contentment  and  jollity  are  not  cul- 
tivated as  they  should  be.  There  are  too 
many  prematurely-wrinkled,  long  and  mel- 
ancholy faces  among  us.  There  is  too 
much  swearing,  sweating  and  slashing 
fuming,  foaming  and  fretting  around  and 
about  us  all. 

"  A  mad  world,  my  masters." 

People  rush  out  doors  bareheaded  and 
barefooted,  as  it  were,  and  dash  blindly  into 
all  sorts  of  dark  alleys  in  quest  of  all  sorts 
of  Trouble,  when  "  Goodness  knows,  "  if 
they  will  only  sit  calmly  and  pleasantly  by 
their  firesides.  Trouble  will  knock  soon 
enough  at  their  doors. 

Hunting  Trouble  is  bad  business.     If  we 


HUNTING   TROUBLE.  I// 

ever  are  induced  to  descend  from  our  pres 
ent  proud  position  to  become  a  member 
of  the  Legislature,  or  ever  accumulate  suf- 
ficient muscle,  impudence,  and  taste  for  bad 
liquor  to  go  to  Congress,  we  shall  introduce 
a  "  william"for  the  suppression  of  Trouble- 
hunting.  We  know  Miss  Slinkins,  who 
incessantly  frets  because  Miss  Slurkins 
is  better  harnessed  than  she  is,  won't  like  it ; 
and  we  presume  the  Simpkinses,  who  worry 
so  much  because  the  Perkinses  live  in  a 
freestone-fronted  house  whilst  theirs  is  only 
plain  brick,  won't  like  it  also.  It  is  doubt- 
ful, too,  whether  our  long-haired  friends, 
the  Reformers  (who  think  the  machinery  of 
the  world  is  all  out  of  joint,  while  we  think 
it  only  neods  a  little  greasing  to  run  in  first- 
rate  style),  will  approve  the  measure..  It  is 
probable,  indeed,  that  very  many  societies, 
of  are  formatory  (and  inflammatory)  char- 
acter, would  frown  upon  the  measure. 
But  the  measure  would  be  a  good  one 
nevertheless. 

Never  hunt  trouble.  However  dead  a 
shot  one  may  be,  the  gun  he  carries  on 
such'  expeditions  is  sure  to  kick  or  go  off 


178  HUNTING    TROUBLE. 

half  cocked.  Trouble  will  come  soon 
enough,  and  when  he  does  come  receive 
him  as  pleasantly  as  possible.  Like  the 
tax-collector,  he  is  a  disagreeable  chap 
to  have  in  one's  house,  but  the  more  amia- 
bly you  greet  him  the  sooner  he  will  go 
away. 


A  MAN  in  Buffalo — an  entire  stranger  to 
us — sends  us  a  quarter-column  puff  of  his 
business,  with  the  cool  request  that  we 
"copy  as  editorial,  and  oblige."  If  he  does 
not  eventually  subside  into  a  highway  rob- 
ber it  won't  be  for  lack  of  the  necessary 
impudence. 


HE  FOUND  HE    WOULD.  1 79 


XXIII. 

HE    FOUND    HE     WOULD. 

Several  years  ago  Bill  McCracken  lived 
in  Peru,  Indiana.  [We  were  in  Peru  sev- 
eral years  ago,  and  it  was  a  nice  place  we 
dont  think.]  Mr.  McCracken  was  a 
screamer,  and  had  whipped  all  the  recog- 
nized fighting  men  on  the  Wabash.  One 
day  somebody  told  him  that  Jack  Long, 
blacksmith  at  Logansport,  said  he  would 
give  him  (McCracken)  a  protracted  fit  of 
sickness  if  he  would  just  come  clown  there 
and  smell  of  his  bones.  The  McCracken 
at  once  laid  in  a  stock  of  provisions,  con- 
sisting of  whiskey  in  glass  and  chickens  in 
the  shell,  and  started  for  Logansport.  In  a 
few  days  he  was  brought  home  in  a  bunged- 
up  condition,  on  a  cot-bed.  One  eye  was 
gouged  out,  a  portion  of  his  nose  was 
chawed  ofT,  his  left  arm  was  in  a  sling,  his 


l80  HE  FOUND  HE   WOULD. 

head  was  done  up  in  old  rag,  and  he  was 
pretty  badly  off  himself.  He  was  set  down 
in  the  village  bar-room,  and  turning  to  the 
crowd  he,  in  a  feeble  voice,  said,  hot  tears 
bedewing  his  face  the  while,  "  Boys,  you 
know  Jack  Long  said  if  I'd  come  down  to 
Loginsput  he'd  whale  h — 11  out  of  me  ;  and, 
boys,  you  know  I  didn't  believe  it,  but  I've 
been  down  thar  and  I  found  he  would.'' 

He  recovered  after  a  lapse  of  years  and 
led  a  better  life.  As  he  said  himself,  he  re- 
turned from  Logansport  a  changed  man. 


DAEK  DOINGS.  l8l 


XXIV. 

DARK    DOINGS. 

Four  promising  young  men  of  this  city 
attended  a  ball  in  the  rural  districts  not  long 
since.  At  a  late  hour  they  retired,  leaving 
word  with  the  clerk  of  the  hotel  to  call 
them  early  in  the  morning,  as  they  wanted 
to  take  the  first  train  home.  The  clerk  was 
an  old  friend  of  the  "fellers,"  and  he  thought 
he  would  have  a  slight  joke  at  their  expense. 
So  he  burnt  some  cork  and,  with  a  sponge, 
blacked  the  faces  of  his  city  friends  after 
they  had  got  soundly  asleep.  In  the  morn- 
ins:  he  called  them  about  ten  minutes  be- 
fore  the  train  came  along.  Feller  No.  i 
awoke  and  laughed  boisterously  at  the 
sight  which  met  his  gaze.  But  he  saw 
through  it — the  clerk  had  played  his 
good  joke  on  his  three  comrades,  and  ot 
course  he  would  keep  mum.  But  it  was  a 
devilish  good  joke.     Feller  No.  2  awoke, 


1 82  BARK  DOINGS. 

saw  the  three  black  men  in  the  room,  com- 
prehended the  joke,  and  laughed  vocifer- 
ously. But  he  would  keep  mum.  Fellers 
No.  3  and  4  awoke,  and  experienced  the 
same  pleasant  feeling;  and  there  was  the 
beautiful  spectacle  of  four  nice  young  men 
laughing  heartily  one  at  another,  each  one 
supposing  the  "urbane  clerk"  had  spai'ed 
him  in  his  cork-daubing  operations.  They 
had  only  time  to  dress  before  the  train 
arrived.  They  all  got  aboard,  each  think- 
ing what  a  glorious  joke  it  was  to  have 
his  three  companions  go  back  to  town  with 
black  faces.  The  idea  was  so  rich  that  they 
all  commenced  laughing  violently  as  soon 
as  they  got  aboai-d  the  cars.  The  other 
passengers  took  to  laughing  also,  and  fun 
raged  fast  and  furious,  until  the  benev- 
olent baggage-man,  seeing  how  matters 
stood,  brought  a  small  pocket-glass  and 
handed  it  around  to  the  3^oung  men.  They 
suddenly  stopped  laughing,  rushed  wildly 
for  the  baggage-car,,  washed  their  faces,,  and 
amused  and  instructed  each  other  during 
the  remainder  of  the  trip  with  some  elo- 
quent flashes  of  silence. 


A   HARD    CASE.  1 83 


XXV. 

A    HARD    CASE. 

We  have  heard  of  some  very  hard  cases 
since  we  have  enlivened  this  world  with  our 
brilliant  presence.  We  once  saw  an  able- 
bodied  man  chase  a  party  of  little  school- 
children and  rob  them  of  their  dinners. 
The  man  who  stole  the  coppers  from  his 
deceased  grandmother's  eyes  lived  in  our 
neighborhood,  and  we  have  read  about 
the  man  who  went  to  church  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  stealing  the  testaments  and 
hymn-books.  But  the  hardest  case  we 
ever  heard  of  lived  in  Arkansas.  He  was 
only  fourteen  years  old.  One  night  he 
deliberately  murdered  his  father  and  mother 
in  cold  blood,  with  a  meat-axe.  He  was 
tried  and  found  guilty.  The  Judge  drew 
on  his  black  cap,  and  in  a  voice  choked 
with  emotion  asked  the  young  prisoner  if 
he  had  anything  to  say  before  the  sentence 


I  §4  A   HARD    CASE. 

of  the  Court  was  passed  on  him.  The 
court-room  was  densely  crowded  and  there 
was  not  a  dry  eye  in  the  vast  assembly. 
The  youth  of  the  prisoner,  his  beauty  and 
innocent  looks,  the  mild  lamblike  manner 
in  which  he  had  conducted  himself  during 
the  trial — all,  all  had  thoroughly  enlisted 
the  sympathy  of  the  spectators,  the  ladies 
in  particular.  And  even  the  Jury,  who 
had  found  it  to  be  their  stern  duty  to  de- 
clare him  guilty  of  the  appalling  crime 
— even  the  Jury  now  wept  aloud  at  this 
awful  moment  "  Have  you  anything  to 
say?"  repeated  the  deeply  moved  Judge. 
"Why,  no,"  replied  the  prisoner,  "I  think 
I  haven't,  though  I  hope  yer  Honor  will 
show  some  consideration  for  the  feelings 
OF  A  POOR  ORPHAN !  "  The  Judge  sentenced 
the  perfect  young  wretch  without  delay. 


EEPORTERS.  1 85 


XXVI. 

REPORTERS. 

The  following  paragraph  is  going  the 
rounds : 

"  How  many  a  great  man  is  now  basking 
in  the  sunshine  of  fame  generously  bestowed 
upon  him  by  the  prolific  genius  of  some 
reporter !  How  many  stupid  orations  have 
been  made  brilliant,  how  many  wander- 
ing, pointless,  objectless  speeches  put  in 
form  and  rendered  at  least  readable,  by 
the  unknown  reporter.  How  many  a 
disheartened  speaker,  who  was  conscious 
the  night  before  of  a  failure,  before  a  thin, 
cold,  spiritless  audience,  awakes  delighted 
to  learn  that  he  has  addressed  an  over- 
whelming assemblage  of  his  enthusiastic, 
appreciating  fellow-citizens,  to  find  his 
speech   sparkling  with   'cheers,'  breaking 


1 86  REPORTERS. 

out  into  '  immense  applause, '  and  con- 
cluding amidst  '  the  wildest  excitement ! ' " 

There  is  considerable  truth  in  the  above, 
we  are  sorry  to  state.  Reporters  are  too 
apt  to  smooth  over  and  give  a  fair  face  to 
the  stupidity  and  bombast  of  political  and 
other  public  humbugs.  For  this  they  are 
not  only  seldom  thanked  but  frequently  are 
kicked.  Of  course  this  sort  of  thinq;  is 
wrong.  A  Reporter  should  be  independent 
enough  to  meet  the  approaches  of  gentle- 
men of  the  Nincompoop  persuasion  with  a 
flat  rebuff.  He  should  never  gloss  over 
a  political  humbug,  whether  he  belongs  to 
"  our  side  "  or  not.  He  is  not  thanked  for 
doing  it,  and,  furthermore,  he  loses  the  re- 
spect and  confidence  of  his  readers.  There 
are  many  amiable  gentlemen  ornamenting 
the  various  walks  of  life  who  are  under  the 
impression  that  for  a  dozen  bad  cigars  or 
a  few  drinks  of  worse  whiskey  they  can 
purchase  the  "  opinion "  of  almost  any 
Reporter.  It  has  been  our  pleasure  on 
several  occasions  to  disabuse  those  gentle- 
men of  this  impression. 

Should   another   occasion   of  this    kind 


REPORTERS.  18/ 

ever  offer  we  feel  that  we  should  be  "  ade- 
quate "  to  treat  it  in  a  similar  manner. 
A  Reporter,  we  modestly  submit,  is  as  good 
as  anybody  and  ought  to  feel  that  he  is, 
everywhere  and  at  all  times.  For  one,  let 
us  quietly  and  without  any  show  of  vanity 
remark,  that  we  are  not  only  just  as  good 
as  anybody  else  but  a  great  deal  better 
than  very  many  we  know  of.  We  love 
God  and  hate  Indians ;  pay  our  debts ; 
support  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States ;  go  in  for  Progress,  Sunshine,  Cal- 
ico, and  other  luxuries ;  are  perfectly  satis- 
fied and  happy,  and  wouldn't  swop  "  sits  " 
with  the  President,  Louis  Napoleon,  the 
Emperor  of  China,  Sultan  of  Turkey, 
Brigham  Young,  or  Nicholas  Longworth. 
Success  to  us ! 


BURIAL  IN  RICHMOND,  ETC. 


XXVII. 

"  BURIAL     IN     RICHMOND    AND    RESURRECTION 
IN    BOSTON." 

A  drama  with  this  title,  written  by  a  col- 
ored citizen  (an  artist  by  profession),  the 
characters  being  performed  by  colored  citi- 
zens, was  played  at  the  Melodeon  last  even- 
ing. There  were  several  white  persons 
present,  though  most  of  the  audience  were 
colored.  The  great  variety  of  colors  made 
a  gay,  and  indeed  we  may  say  gorgeous 
spectacle. 

A  hasty  sketch  of  this  great  moral  pro- 
duction may  not  be  uninteresting.  Act  ist, 
scene  ist,  discloses  a  log-cabin,  with  fifteen 
minutes'  intermission  between  each  loe. 
"  William,  a  spirited  slave,"  and  "  John,  the 
obedient  slave,"  are  in  the  cabin.  William, 
the  spirited  slave,  says  he  will  be  free.  His 
blood  is  up.     "  Why,"  says  William,  "am  I 


BURIAL  IN  RICHMOND,  ETC.  1  89 

here  thus  ?     Was  this  frame  made  to  be  a 
bondage  ?     Shall   Ikese  voice  be  hushed  ? 
Never,  never,  never!"     "Oh,  don't  say  it 
thus,"  says  John,  the  obedient  slave,  "  for 
thus  it  should  not  be.     An'  I  tole  ye  what 
it  was,  now,  jes  take  keer  of  them  pistiles 
or  they'll  work  yer  ruins.     Mind  what  I 
say  Wilyim.     As  for  me  I  shall  stay  here 
with  my  dear  Julia ! "     (Immense  applause.) 
"  And  so  it  has  come  to  this,  ha  ? "  said 
William,  the  spirited  slave,  standing  himself 
up  straight  and  brandishing  his  arms  in  a 
terrific  manner.     "And  so  it  has  come  to 
this,  ha?     And  this  is  a  free  land,  so  it  has 
come  to  this— to   this— to  this:'     William 
appeared  to  be  somewhat'  confused  at  this 
point,  but  a  wealthy  newsboy  in  the  audi- 
ence helped  him  out  by  cr3nng,  "or  any 
other  man."     John  and  William  then  em- 
braced, bitter  tears  moistening  their  manly 
breasts.     "  Farwel,  Wilyim,"  said  John,  the 
obedient  slave,  "  and  bless  you,  bless  you, 
me  child."     The  spirited  slave  walk's  off 
and  the  obedient  slave  falls  into  a  swoon. 
Tableau :  The  Goddess  of  Liberty  appears 
in  a  Mackinaw  blanket  and  pours  incense 


190  BURIAL  IN  RICHMOND,  ETC. 

on  the  obedient  slave.  A  member  of  the 
orchestra  gets  up  and  softly  warbles  on  a 
bass  drum.  Angels  are  hearn  singing  in 
the  distance.  Curtain  falls,  the  audience 
beinsf  soakino^  wet  with  tears. 

Act  2,  scene  first,  discloses  the  house  of 
Mr.  Lyons,  a  slaveholder  in  Virginia.  Mr. 
Lyons,  as  we  learn  by  the  play,  is  "  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Whig  Congress."  He  learns 
that  William,  his  spirited  slave,  has  escaped. 
This  makes  him  very  angry,  and  he  says  he 
will  break  every  bone  in  William's  body. 
He  goes  out  and  searches  for  William,  but 
cannot  find  him,  and  comes  back.  He 
takes  a  heavy  drink,  is  stricken  with  re- 
morse and  declares  his  intention  to  become 
a  nun.  John,  the  obedient  slave,  comes  in 
and  asks  permission  to  marry  Julia.  Mr. 
Lyons  says,  certainly,  by  all  means,  and 
preparations  are  made  for  the  wedding. 

The  wedding  takes  place.  The  scene 
that  follows  is  rather  incomprehensible.  A 
young  mariner  has  a  clandestine  interview 
with  the  obedient  slave  and  receives  $10  io 
make  a  large  box.  An  elderly  mariner — 
not  that  mariner,   but  another  mariner — 


BURIAL  IN  EICHMOXD,  ETC.  I9I 

rushes  madly  in  and  fires  a  horse-pistol  into 
the  air.  He  wheels,  and  is  about  going  off, 
when  a  black  Octoroon  rushes  madly  in 
and  fires  another  horse-pistol  at  the  retreat- 
ing mariner,  who  falls.  He  says  he  is  go- 
ing to  make  a  die  of  it.  Says  he  should 
have  acted  differently  if  he  had  only  done 
otherwise,  which  was  right,  or  else  it  would- 
n't be  so.  He  forgets  his  part  and  don't 
say  anything  more,  but  he  wraps  himself 
up  in  the  American  Flag  and  expires  like 
a  son  of  a  gentleman.  More  warblings  on 
the  bass  drum.  The  rest  of  the  orchestra 
endeavor  to  accompany  the  drum,  but  are 
so  deeply  affected  that  they  can't.  There 
is  a  death-like  stillness  in  the  house.  All 
was  so  still  that  had  a  cannon  been  fired 
off  it  could  have  been  distinctly  seen. 

The  next  scene  discloses  a  large  square 
box.  Several  colored  persons  are  seen 
standing  round  the  square  box.  The  mar- 
iner who  was  killed  in  the  last  scene  com- 
mences knocking  off  the  cover  of  the  box. 
He  pulls  the  cover  off,  and  up  jumps  the 
obedient  slave  and  his  wife  !     The  obedient 


192  BURIAL  IN  RICHMOND,  ETC. 

slave  and  his  dear  Julia  fall  out  of  the  box. 
Great  applause.  They  rush  to  the  foot- 
lights and  kneel.  Quick  music  by  the  or- 
chestra, in  which  the  bass  drum  don't  warble 
so  much  as  she  did.  "  I'm  free  !  Fm  free  ! 
I'm  free!  ! "  shrieks  the  obedient  slave,  "  O 
I'm  free !  "  The  stage  is  suddenly  lighted 
up  in  a  gorgeous  manner.  The  obedient 
slave  and  his  dear  Julia  continue  kneeling. 
The  dead  mariner  blesses  them.  The  God- 
dess of  Liberty  appears  again — this  time  in 
a  Beaver  overcoat — and  pours  some  more 
incense  on  to  the  obedient  slave.  An  alle- 
gorical picture  of  Virtue  appears  in  a  red  vest 
and  military  boots,  on  the  left  proscenium. 
John  Brown  the  Barber  appears  as  Lady 
Macbeth,  and  says  there  is  a  blue  tinge  into 
his  nails,  and  consequently  he  is  an  Octo- 
roon. Another  actor  wants  to  define  his 
position  on  the  Euclid  street  improvement, 
but  is  hissed  down.  Curtain  descends 
amidst  the  admiring  shouts  of  the  audience, 
red  fire,  music,  and  the  violent  assertion  of 
the  obedient  slave  that  he  is  free. 

The  play  will  not  be  repeated  this  even- 


BURIAL  IX  RICHMOND,  ETC.  1 93 

ing,  as  was  announced.  Due  notice  will  be 
given  of  its  next  performance.  It  is  the 
greatest  effort  of  the  kind  that  we  ever  wit- 
nessed. 


Eating-Match  for  the  Championship. — 
We  understand  that  preparations  are  mak- 
ing for  a  grand  Eating-Match  for  the 
Championship  of  America,  to  take  place  in 
this  city  some  time  next  month.  Two  of 
our  most  voracious  eaters,  whose  names  we 
are  not  now  permitted  to  give,  will  meet 
somewhere  beyond  the  city  limits  and  pro- 
ceed to  devour  mush  and  milk  until  one  of 
them  bursts.  The  one  who  don't  burst  will' 
be  declared  the  victor,  and  come  into  pos- 
session of  the  Championship  and  the  stakes; 
whatever  they  may  be.  The  contestants 
are  now  training  for  the  trial. 


194  SE  HAD  THE  LITTLE  VOUCHER  IN  HIS  POCKET. 


XXVIII 

HE    HAD    THE    LITTLE    VOUCHER      IN    HIS 
POCKET. 

L lived  in  this  city  several  years  ago. 

He  dealt  in  horses,  carnages,  &c.  Hearing 
of  a  good  chance  to  sell  buggies  up  West 
he  embarked  with  a  lot  for  that  "  oreat " 

O 

country.  At  Toledo  he  took  a  Michigan 
Southern  train.  Somebody  had,  by  way  of 
a  joke,  warned  him  against  the  conductor 
of  that  particular  train,  telling  him  that  said 
conductor  had  an  eccentric  way  of  taking 
up  tickets  at  the  beginning  of  the  journey, 
and  of  denying  that  he  had  done  so  and 
demanding  fare  at  the  end  thereof  This 
the  confiding  L swallowed.  He  deter- 
mined not  to  be  swindled  in  this  way,  and 
so  when  the  conductor  came  around  and 
asked  him  for  his  ticket  he  declined  sfivino; 
it   up.       The  conductor   insisted — L-^ 


HE  HAD  THE  LITTLE  VOUCHER  IN  HIS  POCKET.  1 95 

Still  refused.  "  I've  got  the  little  voucher 
in  my  pocket,"  he  said,  with  a  knowing 
look,  slyly  slapping  the  pocket  which  con- 
tained the  ticket.      The  conductor  glanced 

at  L 's  stalwart  frame.      He  had  heard 

L spoken  of  as  a  fighting  man.       He 

preferred  not  to  grapple  with  him.  The 
train  was  a  light  one,  and  it  so  happened 

that    L was  the  only  man  in  this,  the 

hind  car.  So  the  conductor  had  the  train 
stopped,  and    quietly  unhitched   this    car. 

"  Good  day,  Mr.  L ,"  he  yelled,  "just 

keep  that  little  voucher  in  your  pocket  and 

be  d d  to  you  !  "  L jumped  up  and 

saw  the  other  cars  moving  rapidly  away.  He 
was  left  solitary  and  alone  in  a  dismal 
piece  of  woods,  known  as  the  Black  Swamp. 
He  remained  there  in  the  car  until  night, 
when  the  down  train  came  along  and  took 
him  to  Toledo.  He  had  to  pay  fare,  his 
up  through-ticket  not  being  good  on  that 
train.  His  buggies  had  gone  unattended 
to  Chicago.  He  was  very  angry.  He  finally 
Q-ot  throu2:h,but  he  will  never  hear  the  last 
of  that  "  little  voucher." 


196  THE   GENTLEMANLY   CONDUCTOR. 


XXIX. 

THE  GENTLEMANLY  CONDUCTOR. 

Few  have  any  idea  of  the  trials  and  trib- 
ulations of  the  railway  conductor — "  the 
gentlemanly  conductor,"  as  one-horse  news- 
papers delight  in  styling  him.  Unless  you 
are  gifted  with  the  patience  of  the  lamented 
Job,  who,  tradition  informs  us,  had  "  biles  " 
all  over  his  body  and  didn't  swear  once, 
never  go  for  a  Conductor,  me  boy ! 

The  other  evening  we  enlivened  a  rail- 
road car  with  our  brilliant  presence.  Start- 
ing time  was  not  quite  up,  and  the  passen- 
gers were  amusing  themselves  by  laughing, 
swearing,  singing,  and  talking,  according  to 
their  particular  fancy.  The  Conductor 
came  in  and  the  following  were  a  few  of  the 
questions  put  to  him  :  One  old  fellow,  who 
was  wrapped  up  in  a  horse-blanket  and 
who  apparently  had  about  two  pounds  of 


THE   GENTLEMANLY  CONDUCTOR.  1 9/ 

pigtail  in  his  mouth,  wanted  to  know  "  What 
pint  of  compass  the  keers  was  travelin'  in  ?  " 
An  old  lady,  surrounded  by  band-boxes  and 
enveloped  in  flannels,  wanted  to  know  what 
time  the  8  o'clock  train  left  Rock  Island 
for  "  Dubu-kue  ? "  A  carroty-haired  young 
man  wanted  to  know  if  "  free  omyibuses  " 
run  from  the  cars  to  the  taverns  in  Toledo  ? 
A  tall,  razor-faced  individual,  evidently  from 
the  interior  of  Connecticut,  desired  to  know 
if  "  conductin  "  paid  as  well  eout  West  as 
it  did  deoun  in  his  country ;  and  a  portly, 
close-shaven  man,  with  round  keen  eyes, 
and  in  whose  face  you  could  read  the  inter- 
est-table, asked  the  price  of  corner  lots  in 
Omaha.  These  and  many  other  equally 
absurd  questions  the  conductor  answered 
calmly  and  in  a  resigned  manner.  And 
we  shuddered  as  we  thought  how  he  would 
have  to  answer  a  similar  string  of  questions 
in  each  of  the  three  cars  ahead. 


1 98  A   MAYORALTY  ELECTION 


XXX. 

A    MAYORALTY    ELECTION. 

Messrs.  Senter  and  Coffinberry,  two  es- 
teemed citizens,  are  the  candidates.  Here's 
a  faint  attempt  at  a  specimen  scene  :  An 
innocent  German  is  discovered  about  half 
a  mile  from  the  polls  of  this  or  that  ward. 
A  dozen  ticket-peddlers  scent  him  ("even 
as  the  war-horse  snuffs  the  battle,"  etc.), 
see  him,  and  make  a  grand  rush  for  him. 
They  surround  him,  each  shoves  a  bunch 
of  tickets  under  his  nose,  and  all  com- 
mence bellowinG;  in  his  ears :  Here's  the 
ticket  yer  want — Coffinberry.  Here's  Sen- 
tor — Senterberry  and  Coffinter.  What  the 
h — 1  yer  tryin'  to  fool  the  man  for.''  Don't 
yer  spose  he  knows  who  he  wants  ter  vote 
for,  say!  'Ere's  the  ticket — Sen — Coff — 
don't  crowd — get  off  my  toes,  you  d — d 
fool !     Workin'  men  s  ticket  is  the  ticket 


A   MAYORALTY  ELECTION  1 99 

you  want !  To  h — 1  wid  yez  workin'  men's 
ticket,  'ere's  the  ticket  yez  want!  No,  by 
Cot,  vote  for  Shorge  P.  Senter — he  says 
he'll  py  all  the  peer  for  dems  as  votes  for 
him  as  much  more  dan  dey  can  trinks,  by 
tam!  Senter  be  d — d!  Go  for  Coffin- 
berry  !  Coffinberry  was  killed  eight  times 
in  the  Mexican  war,  and  is  in  favor  of  jus- 
tice and  Pop'lar  Sovrinty !  Oh  gas!  Sen- 
ter was  at  the  battle  of  Tippe-ca-noo, 
scalped  twelve  Injuns  and  wrote  a  treatise 
on  Horse-shoeing!  Don't  go  for  Coffin- 
berry.  He's  down  on  all  the  Dutch,  and 
swears  he'll  have  all  their  heads  chopped 
off  and  run  into  sausages  if  he's  lected.  Do 
you    know   what  George    B.  Senter   says 

about   the    Germans?     He   says  by 

they're  in  the  habit  of  stealing  /zve  Ameri- 
can infants  and  hashing  'em  up  into  head 

cheese,  by !     That's  a  lie!     T'aint— 

I  heard  him  say  so  with  my  own  mouth. 
Let  the  man  alone — stop  yer  pullin— 111 
bust  yer  ear  for  yer  yet.  My  Cot,  my  Cot, 
what  tam  dimes  dese  'lections  is.  Will  yez 
crowd  a  poor  Jarman  till  death,  yer  d— d 
spalpanes,  yez?     Sen— Coff— Senterberry 


200  A   MAYORALTY  ELECTION. 

and  Coffi liter — Working  Men's — Repub — 
Dem — whoop —  h — 1  —  whooray — bully — 
y-e-o-u-c-h ! ! 

The  strongest  side  got  the  unfortunate 
German's  vote,  and  he  went  sore  and  bleed- 
ing home,  satisfied,  no  doubt,  that  this  is  a 
great  country,  and  that  the  American  Eagle 
will  continue  to  be  a  deeply  interesting 
bird  while  his  wings  are  in  the  hands  of 
patriots  like  the  above.  Scenes  like  the 
above  (only  our  description  is  very  imper- 
fect) were  played  over  and  over  again,  at 
every  ward  in  the  city,  yesterday. 

Let  us  be  thankful  that  the  country  is 
safe — but  we  should  like  to  see  some  of  the 
ward  politicians  gauged  to-day,  for  we  are 
confident  the  operation  would  exhibit  an  as- 
tonishing depth  of  whiskey. 

Hurrah  for  the  Bar-Stangled  Spanner ! 


FrSHJNG  EXCURSION.  301 


XXXI. 

FISHING    EXCURSION. 

The  Leviathan,  Capt.  Wm.  Sholl,  left 
the  foot  of  Superior  street  at  6  o'clock  yes- 
terday morning  for  a  fishing  excursion  down 
the  lake.  There  were  about  twenty  persons 
in  the  party,  and  we  think  we  never  saw  a 
more  lovely  lot  of  men.  The  noble  craft 
swept  majestically  out  of  the  Cuyahoga  into 
the  lake,  and  as  she  sped  past  a  retired 
coal-dealer's  office  the  Usher  borrowed  our 
pocket-handkerchief  (which  in  the  excess  of 
his  emotion  he  forgot  to  return  us)  to  wipe 
away  four  large  tears  which  trickled  from 
his  light  bay  eyes.  On  dashed  the  Levia- 
than at  the  rate  of  about  forty-five  knots  an 
hour.  The  fishing-ground  reached,  the 
clarion  voice  of  Sholl  was  heard  to  ejacu- 
late, "  Reef  home  the  jib-boom,  shorten  the 
mainbrace,  splice  the  forecastle,  and  throw 
9* 


202  FISHING  EXCUIISIOK 

the  hurricane-deck  overboard  !  Lively,  my 
lads  !"  "  Aye,  aye,  Sir!"  said  Marsh,  the 
chaplain  of  the  expedition,  in  tones  of  thun- 
der, and  the  gallant  party  sprang  to  execute 
the  Captain's  orders,  the  agile  form  of  first- 
officer  Hilliard  being  especially  conspicu- 
ous in  reefing  the  jib-boom.  Lines  were 
cast  and  the  sport  commenced.  It  seemed 
as  though  all  the  fish  in  the  lake  knew  of 
our  coming,  and  had  collected  in  that  par- 
ticular spot  for  the  express  purpose  of  being 
caught !  What  teeth  they  had — sufficiently 
good,  certainly,  to  bite  a  cartridge  or  any- 
thing else.  The  Usher  caught  the  first  fish 
— a  small  but  beautiful  bass,  whose  weight 
was  about  three  inches  and  a  half  The 
Usher  was  elated  at  this  streak  of  luck,  but 
his  hand  did  not  tremble,  and  he  continued 
to  haul  the  fish  in  until  at  noon  he 
had  caught  thirteen  firkins  full,  and  he  an- 
nounced that  he  should  fish  no  more* 
Cruelty  was  no  part  of  his  nature,  and  he  did 
not  think  it  right  to  slaughter  fish  in  this 
way.  Cross,  Barney,  and  the  rest,  were  im- 
mensely successful,  and  hauled  in  tremen- 
dous quantities  of  bass,  perch,  Mackinaw 


FISHING  EXCURSION.  203 

trout,  and  Connecticut  shad.      Bone  didn't 
catch  a  fish,  and  we  shall  never  forget  the 
sorrowful  manner  in  which  the  poor  fellow 
gazed  upon  our  huge  pile  of  beautiful  bass, 
which  occupied  all  of  the  quarter-deck  and 
a  large  portion  of  the  forecastle.     Having 
fished  enough  the  party  went  ashore,  where 
they  found  Ab.  Mcllrath  (who  was  fanning 
liimself  with  a  barn  door),  the  Grand  Com- 
mandant (who  in  a  sonorous  voice  requested 
the  parties,  as  they  alighted  from  the  small 
boats,  to  "keep  their  heads  oat  of  water"), 
the  General  (who  was  discussing  with  the 
Doctor   the    propriety   of  annexing    East 
Cleveland  to  the  United  States),  and  several 
distinguished  gentlemen  from    town,  who 
had   come    down    with  life-preservers  and 
ginger-pop.       After  disposing  of  a   sump- 
tuous lunch  the  party  amused  and  instruct- 
ed each  other  by  conversation,  and   about 
3  o'clock  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  Leviathan 
was  sounded  by  Mike,  the  urbane  and  ac 
complished  engineer,  and  the   party  were 
soon   homeward  bound.       It  was  a  good 
time. 


204    RED  HAND:   A    TALE   OF  REVENGE. 


XXXII. 

RED  hand:  a  tale  of  revenge. 
Chapter  I, 

"  Life's  but  a  walking  shadow — a  poor  player." — Sliakespeare. 
"  Let  me  die  to  sweet  music." — J.  VV.  Shuckers. 

"  Go  forth,  Clarence  Stanley !  Hence  to 
the  bleak  world,  dog!  You  have  repaid 
my  generosity  with  the  blackest  ingratitude. 
You  have  forged  my  name  on  a  five  thou- 
sand dollar  check — have  repeatedly  robbed 
my  money-drawer — have  perpetrated  a  long 
series  of  high-handed  villainies,  and  now 
to-night,  because,  forsooth,  I'll  not  give  you 
more  money  to  spend  on  your  dissolute 
companions  you  break  a  chair  over  my 
aged  head.  Away!  You  are  a  young 
man  of  small  moral  principle.  Don't  ever 
speak  to  me  again  !  " 

These  harsh  words  fell  from  the  lips  of 
Horace  Blinker,  one  of  the  merchant  princes 
of  New  York  city.     He  spoke  to  Clarence 


RED  HAND:   A    TALE   OF  REVENGE.         205 

Stanley,  his  adopted  son  and  a  beautiful 
youth  of  nineteen  summers.  In  vain  did 
Clarence  plead  his  poverty,  his  tender  age 
and  inexperience ;  in  vain  did  he  fasten 
those  lustrous  blue  eyes  of  his  appealingly 
and  tearfully  upon  Mr.  Blinker,  and  tell 
him  he  would  make  the  pecuniary  matter 
all  right  in  the  fall,  and  that  he  merely  shat- 
tered a  chair  over  his  head  by  way  of  a 
joke.  The  stony-hearted  man  was  remorse- 
less, and  that  night  Clarence  Stanley  be- 
came a  wanderer  in  the  wide,  wide  world ! 
As  he  went  forth  he  uttered  these  words : 
"  H.  Blinker,  beware !  A  Red  Hand  is 
around,  my  fine  feller ! " 


Chapter  II. 

« a  man  of  strange,  wild  mien— one  who  has  seen  trouble."— ^zV 

IValler  Scott. 

"  You  ask  me,  don't  I  wish  to  see  the  Constitution  dissolved  and  broken 
up.     I  answer,  tiever,  never,  never  !  " — H.  W.  Faxon. 

"  They  will  join  our  expedition." — Anon. 

"  Go  in  on  your  mnscW— President  Buchatian's  instructions  to  tlie  CoU 
lector  of  Toledo. 

"  West\vard  the  hoe  of  Empire  Stars  its  way."—Geors:e  N.  True. 

"  Where  liberty  dwells  there  is  my  kedentry."— C.  R.  Dennett. 

Seventeen  years  have  become  ingulfed 


206  BED   HAND:   A    TALE   OF  REYEXGE. 

in  the  vast  and  moist  ocean  of  eternity 
since  the  scene  depicted  in  the  last  chapter 
occurred.  We  are  in  Mexico.  Come  with 
me  to  the  Scarlet  Banditti's  cave.  It  is 
night.  A  tempest  is  raging  tempestuously 
without,  but  within  we  find  a  scene  of  daz- 
zling magnificence.  The  cave  is  spacious. 
Chandeliers  of  solid  gold  hang  up  sus- 
pended round  the  gorgeously  furnished 
room,  and  the  marble  floor  is  star-studded 
with  flashing  diamonds.  It  must  have  cost 
between  two  hundred  dollars  to  fit  this  cave 
up.  It  embraced  all  of  the  modern  im- 
provements. At  the  head  of  the  cave  life- 
size  photographs  (by  Ryder)  of  the  bandits, 
and  framed  in  gilt,  were  hung  up  suspended. 
The  bandits  were  seated  around  a  marble 
table,  which  was  sculped  regardless  of  ex- 
]:)ense,  and  were  drinking  gin  and  molasses 
out  of  golden  goblets.  When  they  got  out 
of  gin  fresh  supplies  were  brought  in  by 
slaves  from  a  two-horse  wagon  outside, 
which  had  been  captured  that  day,  after  a 
desperate  and  bloody  struggle,  by  the  ban- 
dits, on  the  ])lains  of  Buena  Vista. 

At  the  head  of  the  table  sat  the  Chief. 


RED  HAND:  A    TALE   OF  REVENGE.         207 

His  features  were  swarthy  but  elegant.  He 
was  splendidly  dressed  in  new  clothes,  and 
had  that  voluptuous,  dreamy  air  of  grandeur 
about  him  which  would  at  once  rivet  the 
gaze  of  folks  generally.  In  answer  to  a 
highly  enthusiastic  call  he  arose  and  deliv- 
ered an  able  and  eloquent  speech.  We 
regret  that  our  space  does  not  permit  us  to 
give  this  truly  great  speech  in  full — we  can 
merely  give  a  synopsis  of  the  distinguished 
speaker's  remarks:  "Comrades!  listen  to 
your  chief  You  all  know  my  position  on 
Lecompton.  Where  I  stand  in  regard  to 
low  tolls  on  the  Ohio  Canal  is  equally  clear 
to  you,  and  so  with  the  Central  American 
question,  I  believe  I  understand  my  little 
Biz.  I  decline  defining  my  position  on  the 
Horse  Railroad  until  after  the  Spring  Elec- 
tion. Whichever  way  I  says  I  don't  say  so 
myself  unless  I  says  so  also.  Comrades ! 
be  virtuous  and  you'll  be  hajipy."  The 
Chief  sat  down  amidst  great  applause,  and 
was  immediately  presented  with  an  elegant 
gold-headed  cane  by  his  comrades,  as  a 
slight  testimonial  of  their  respect. 


208         EED  HAND:  A    TALE   OF  REVENGE. 


Chapter  III. 

"  This  is  the  last  of  Earth." — Page. 

"  The  hope  of  America  lies  in  its  well-conducted  school-houses." — Bone. 

"  I  w-ish  it  to  be  distinctly  understood  that  I  want  the  Union  to  be  Re- 
served."— N.  T.  Nash. 

"  Sine  qua  non  Ips  Di.\it  Quid  pro  quo  cui  bono  Ad  infmitim  E  Unibus  plu- 
rum." — Brown. 

Two  hours  later.  Return  we  asfain  to 
the  Banditti's  Cave.  Revehy  still  holds 
high  carnival  among  the  able  and  efficient 
bandits.  A  knock  is  heard  at  the  door. 
From  his  throne  at  the  head  of  the  table 
the  Chief  cries,  "  Come  in ! "  and  an  old 
man,  haggard,  white  haired,  and  sadly  bent, 
enters  the  cave. 

"  Messieurs,"  he  tremblingly  ejaculates, 
*'  for  seventeen  years  I  have  not  tasted  of 
food!" 

"  Well,"  says  a  kind-hearted  bandit,  "  if 
that's  so  I  expect  you  must  be  rather  faint. 
We'll  get  you  up  a  warm  meal  immediately, 
stranger." 

"Hold!"  whispered  the  Chief  in  tones 
of  thunder,  and  rushing  slowly  to  the  spot; 
"  this  is  about  played  out.     Behold  in  me 


RED  HAND:   A    TALE   OF  REVENGE.         20C) 

Red  Hand,  the  Bandit  Chief,  once  Clarence 
Stanley,  whom  you  cruelly  turned  into  a 
cold  world  seventeen  years  ago  this  very 
night !  Old  man,  prepare  to  go  up ! " 
Saying  which  the  Chief  drew  a  sharp  carv- 
ing knife  and  cut  off  Mr.  Blinker's  cars. 
He  then  scalped  Mr.  B.,  and  cut  all  of  his 
toes  off.  The  old  man  struggled  to  extri- 
cate himself  from  his  unpleasant  situation, 
but  was  unsuccessful. 

"  My  goodness,"  he  piteously  exclaimed, 
"  I  must  say  you  are  pretty  rough.  It 
seems  to  me ." 

This  is  all  of  this  intensely  interesting 
tale  that  will  be  published  in  the  Plain 
Dealer.  The  remainder  of  it  may  be 
found  in  the  great  moral  family  paper, 
"The  Windy  Flash,"  published  in  New 
York,  by  Stimpkins.  The  Windy  Flash 
circulates  4,000,000  copies  weekly. 

IT  IS  THE  ALL-FIREDEST  PAPER  EVER  PRINTED. 
IT  IS  THE  ALL-FIREDEST  PAPER  EVER  PRINTED. 
IT   IS   THE   ALL-FIREDEST   PAPER   EVER   PRINTED. 

it  is  the  all-firedest  paper  ever  prlnted. 

it's  the  cussedest  best  paper  in  thk  world. 
it's  the  cussedest  best  paper  in  the  world. 


2IO         RED  HAND:  A    TALE   OF  REVENGE. 

it's  the  cussedest  best  paper  in  the  world, 
it's  the  cussedest  best  paper  in  the  world. 

it's  a  moral  paper, 
it's  a  moral  paper, 
it's  a  moral  paper, 
it's  a  moral  paper.    I 

sold  at  all  the  corner  groceries, 
sold  at  all  the  corner  groceries. 

SOLD  at  all  the  CORNER  GROCERIES. 
sold  at  all  the  CORNER  GROCERIES. 


THE  LAST  OF  TUB  CULKIXSES.  211 


XXXIII. 

THE     LAST    OF     THE     CULKINSES A    DUEL    IX 

CLEVELAND DISTANCE  TEN  PACES BLOODY 

RESULT FLIGHT    OF    ONE    OF   THE    PRINCI- 
PALS  FULL  PARTICULARS. 

A  FEW  weeks  since  a  young  Irishman 
named  Culkins  wandered  into  Cleveland 
from  New  York.  He  had  been  in  America 
only  a  short  time.  He  overflowed  with 
book  learnino^,  but  was  mournfullv  is^nor- 
ant  of  American  customs,  and  as  innocent 
and  confidinfr  withal  as  the  Babes  in  the 
Wood.  He  talked  much  of  his  family, 
their  commanding  position  in  Connaught, 
Ireland,  their  immense  respectability,  their 
chivalry,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  He 
was  the  only  representative  of  that  mighty 
race  in  this  country.  "  I'm  the  last  of  the 
Culkinses  !  "  he  would  frequently  say,  with 
a  tino-e  of  romantic  sadness,  meaning,  we 


212  THE  LAST  OF  THE   CULKINSES. 

suppose,  that  he  would  be  the  last  when 
the  elder  Culkins  (in  the  admired  language 
of  the  classics)  "  slipped  his  wind."  Young 
Culkins  proposed  to  teach  Latin,  Greek, 
Spanish,  Fardown  Irish,  and  perhaps  Choc- 
taw, to  such  youths  as  desired  to  become 
thorough  linguists.  He  was  not  very  suc- 
cessful in  this  line,  and  concluded  to  enter 
the  office  of  a  prominent  law  firm  on  Su- 
perior street,  as  a  student.  He  dove  among 
the  musty  and  ponderous  volumes  with  all 
the  enthusiasm  of  a  wild  young  Irishman, 
and  commenced  cramming  his  head  with 
law  at  a  startling  rate.  He  lodged  in  the 
back-room  of  the  office,  and  previous  to  re- 
tiring, he  used  to  sing  the  favorite  ballads 
of  his  own  Emerald  Isle.  The  boy  who 
was  cm})loyed  in  the  office  directly  across 
tlie  hall  used  to  go  to  the  Irishman's  door 
and  stick  his  ear  to  the  key-hole  with  a 
view  to  drinking  in  the  gushing  melody 
by  the  quart  or  perhaps  pailful.  This  vexed 
Mr.  Culkins,  and  considerably  marred  the 
])leasure  of  the  thing,  as  witness  the  follow- 
ing: 

"  O  come  to  nic  when  daylight  sets 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   CULKINSES.  213 

[What  yez  doing  at  that  door  ycr  d d 

spalpane  ?] 

Sweet,  then  come  to  me  ! 

[I'll  twist  the  nose  off  of  yez  presently, 
me  honey !] 

When  softly  glide  our  gondolettes 

[Bedad,  I'll  do  murther  to  yez,  young 
gintlemin!] 

O'er  the  moonlit  sea." 

Of  course  this  couldn't  continue.  This, 
in  short,  was  rather  more  than  the  blood  of 
the  Culkinses  could  stand,  so  the  young 
man,  through  whose  veins  such  a  powerful 
lot  of  that  blood  courses,  sprang  to  the 
door,  seized  the  eaves  dropping  boy,  drew 
him  within  and  commenced  to  severely 
chastise  him.  The  boy's  master,  the  gen- 
tleman who  occupied  the  office  across  the 
hall,  here  interfered,  pulled  Mr.  Culkins  off", 
thrust  him  gently  against  the  wall  and 
slightly  choked  him.  Mr.  Culkins  bottled 
his  furious  wrath  for  that  night,  but  in  the 
morning:  he  uncorked  it  and  threatened  the 


214  THE  LAST  OF  THE   CULKINSES. 

gentleman  (whom  for  convenience  sake  we 
will  call  Smith)  with  all  sorts  of  vengeance. 
He  obtained  a  small  horsewhip  and  tore 
furiously  through  the  town,  on  the  look-out 
for  Smith. 

He  sent  Smith  a  challenge,  couched  in 
language  so  scathingly  hot  that  it  burnt 
holes  through  the  paper,  and  when  it 
reached  Smith  it  was  riddled  like  an  old- 
fashioned  milk  strainer.  No  notice  was 
taken  of  the  challenge,  and  Culkins'  wrath 
became  absolutely  terrific.  He  wrote  hand- 
bills which  he  endeavored  to  have  printed, 
posting  Smith  as  a  coward.  He  wrote  a 
communication  for  the  New  Herald,  ex- 
plaining the  whole  matter.  (This  wasn't 
very  rich,  we  expect).  He  urged  us  to 
publish  his  challenge  to  Smith.  Somebody 
told  him  that  Smith  was  intending  to  flee 
the  city  in  fear  on  an  afternoon  train,  and 
Culkins  proceeded  to  the  depot,  horsewhip 
in  hand,  to  lie  in  wait  for  him.  This  was 
Saturday  last.  During  the  afternoon  Smith 
concluded  to  accept  the  challenge.  Seconds 
and  a  suro^eon  were  selected,  and  we  are 
mortified  to  state  that  at  lo  o'clock  in  the 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   CULKINSES.  21  5 

evening  Scranton's  Bottom  was  desecrated 
with  a  regular  duel.  The  frantic  glee  of 
Culkins  when  he  learned  his  challenge  had 
been  accepted  can't  be  described.  Our  pen 
can't  do  it — a  pig-pen  couldn't.  He  wrote 
a  lone  letter  to  his  uncle  in  New  York,  and 
to  his  father  in  Connaught.  At  about  ten 
o'clock  the  party  proceeded  to  the  field. 
The  moon  was  not  up,  the  darkness  was 
dense,  the  ground  was  unpleasantly  moist, 
and  the  lights  of  the  town,  which  gleamed 
in  the  distance,  only  made  the  scene  more 
desolate  and  dreary.  The  ground  was  paced 
off  and  the  men  arranged.  While  this  was 
being  done  the  surgeon,  by  the  light  of  a 
dark  lantern,  arranged  his  instruments, 
which  consisted  of  i  common  handsaw,  i 
hatchet,  i  butcher  knife,  a  large  variety  of 
smaller  knives,  and  a  small  mountain  of  old 
rag.  Neither  of  the  principals  exhibited 
any  fear.  Culkins  insisted  that,  as  the  chal- 
lenging party,  he  had  the  right  to  the  word 
fire.  This,  after  a  bitter  discussion,  was 
granted.  He  urged  his  seconds  to  place 
him  facing  towards  the  town,  so  that  the 
lio-hts  would  be  in  his    favor.      This  was 


2l6  THE  LAST  OF  TEE   CULKINSES. 

done  without  any  trouble,  the  immense  be- 
nefits of  that  position  not  being  discovered 
by  Smith's  second. 

"  If  I  fall,"  said  Culkins  to  his  second, 
'•  see  me  respectably  buried  and  forward  bill 
to  Connaught.  Believe  me,  it  will  be 
cashed."  The  arms  (horse-pistols)  were 
given  to  the  men,  and  one  of  Culkins'  se- 
conds said : 

"  Gentlemen,  are  you  ready  ?  " 

Smith — Ready. 

Culkins — Ready.  The  blood  of  the  Cul- 
kinses  is  aroused  ! 

Second — One,  Two,  Three — fire! 

Culkins'  pistol  didn't  go  off.  Smith 
didn't  fire.  "  That  was  generous  in  Smith, 
not  to  fire,"  said  a  second.  "  It  was  inDADE," 
said  Culkins,  "  I  did  not  think  it  of  the  low- 
lived scoundrel !  " 

The  word  was  again  given.  Crack  went 
both  pistols  simultaneously.  The  smoke 
slowly  cleared  away,  and  the  principals 
were  discovered  standing  stock-still.  The 
silence  and  stillness  for  a  moment  were 
awful.  No  one  moved.  Soon  Smith  was 
seen  to  reel  and  then  to  slowly  fall.     His 


THE  LAST   OF  THE   CULKIXSES.  21/ 

second  and  the  surgeon  rushed  to  him. 
Culkins  made  a  tremendous  effort  to  fly 
from  the  field  but  was  restrained  by  his 
seconds.  The  honor  of  the  Culkinses,"  he 
roared,  "  is  untarnished — why  the  divil 
won't  yez  let  me  go  ?  H — Us  blazes,  men, 
will  yez  be  after  giving  me  over  to  the 
bailiffs  ?  Docther,  Docther,"  he  shouted, 
"is  he  mortally  wounded  ?  "  The  doctor  said 
they  could  not  tell — that  he  was  wounded 
in  the  shoulder — that  a  carriage  would  be 
sent  for  and  the  wounded  man  taken  to 
his  house.  Here  a  heart-rending  groan 
came  from  Smith,  and  Culkins,  with  a 
Donnybrook  shriek,  burst  from  his  seconds, 
knocked  over  the  doctor's  lantern,  and  fled 
towards  the  town  like  greased  lightning 
amidst  a  chorus  of  excited  voices. 

"  Hold  him !  " 

"  Stop  him  !  " 

"  Grab  him  by  the  coat-tails! " 

"  Shoot  him  !  " 

"Head  him  off!" 
And  half  of  the  party  started  after  him  at 
an   express-train   rate.      There   was   some 
very  fine    running   indeed.      Culkins  was 


21 8  THE  LAST  OF  THE   CULKINSES. 

brought  to  a  sudden  stop  against  a  tall 
board  fence,  but  he  sprang  back  and  cleared 
it  like  an  English  hunter,  and  tore  like  a 
lunatic  for  the  city.  Half  an  hour  later  the 
party  might  have  been  seen,  if  it  hadn't 
been  so  pesky  dark,  groping  blindly  around 
the  office  in  which  Culkins  had  been  a 
student  at  law. 

"  Are  you  here,  Culkins  1 "  said  one. 

"  Before  Culkins  answers  that,"  said  a 
smothered  voice  in  the  little  room,  "tell  me 
who  yez  are." 

"  Friends — your  seconds  !  " 

"  Gintlcmin,  Culkins  is  here.  The  last 
of  the  Culkinses  is  under  the  bed." 

He  was  dragged  out.  "  I  hope,"  he  said, 
"  the  ignoble  wretch  is  not  dead,  but  I  call 
you  to  witness,  gintlemin,  that  he  grossly 
insulted  me."  [We  don't  care  what  folks 
say,  but  choking  a  man  is  a  gross  insult. 
Eds.  P.  D.]  He  was  persuaded  to  retire. 
There  was  no  danger  of  his  being  disturbed 
that  night,  as  the  watch  were  sleeping  sweet- 
ly as  usual  in  the  big  arm-chairs  of  the  vari- 
ous hotels,  and  he  would  be  able  to  fly  the 
city  in  the  morning.     He  had  a  haggard 


TEE  LAST  OF  THE  CULKINSES.  219 

and  wornout  look  yesterday  morning.  Two 
large  bailiffs,  he  said,  had  surrounded  the 
building  in  the  night,  and  he  had  not  slept 
a  wink.  And  to  add  to  his  discomfiture 
his  coat  was  covered  with  a  variegated  and 
moist  mixture,  which  he  thought  must  be 
some  of  the  brains  of  his  opponent,  they 
having  spattered  against  him  as  he  passed 
the  dying  man  in  his  flight  from  the  field. 
As  Smith  was  not  dead  (though  the  surgeon 
said  he  would  be  confined  to  his  house  for 
several  weeks,  and  there  was  some  danger 
of  mortification  setting  in),  Culkins  wisely 
concluded  that  the  mixture  might  be  some- 
thing else.  A  liberal  purse  was  made  up 
for  him,  and  at  an  early  hour  yesterday 
morning  the  last  of  the  Culkinses  went 
down  St.  Clair  street  on  a  smart  trot.  He 
took  this  morning's  Lakeshore  express  train 
at  some  way-station,  and  is  now  on  his  way 
to  New  York.  The  most  astonishing  thing 
about  the  whole  affair  is  the  appearance  on 
the  street  to-day,  apparently  well  and  un- 
hurt, of  the  gentleman  who  wa^  so  badly 
"wounded  in  the  shoulder."  But  a  duel 
was  actually  "  fit." 


220      EOW  OLD  ABE  RECEIVED  THE  NEWS 


XXXIV. 

HOW    OLD    ABE    RECEIVED    THE     NEWS    OF    HIS 
NOMINATION. 

There  are  several  reports  afloat  as  to  how 
"  Honest  Old  Abe  "  received  the  news  of 
his  nomination,  none  of  which  are  correct. 
We  give  the  correct  report. 

The  Official  Committee  arrived  in  Spring- 
field at  dewy  eve,  and  went  to  Honest  Old 
Abe's  house.  Honest  Old  Abe  was  not  in. 
Mrs.  Honest  Old  Abe  said  Honest  Old  Abe 
was  out  in  the  woods  splitting  rails.  So 
the  Official  Committee  went  out  into  the 
woods,  where  sure  enough  they  found  Hon- 
est Old  Abe  splitting  rails  with  his  two 
boys.  It  was  a  grand,  a  magnificent  spec- 
tacle. There  stood  Honest  Old  Abe  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  a  pair  of  leather  home-made 
suspenders  holding  up  a  pair  of  home-made 
pantaloons,  the  scat  of  which  was  neatly 


OF  HIS  NOMINATION.  221 

patched  with  substantial  cloth  of  a  different 
color.  "  Mr.  Lincoln,  Sir,  you've  been  nom- 
inated, Sir,  for  the  highest  office,  Sir .'' 

"  Oh,  don  t  bother  me,"  said  Honest  Old 
Abe,  "  I  took  a  stent  this  mornin'  to  split 
three  million  rails  afore  night,  and  I  don't 
want  to  be  pestered  with  no  stuff  about  no 
Conventions  till  I  get  my  stent  done.  I've 
only  got  two  hundred  thousand  rails  to  split 
before  sundown.  I  kin  do  it  if  you'll  let 
me  alone."  And  the  great  man  went  right 
on  splitting  rails,  paying  no  attention  to  the 
Committee  whatever.  The  Committee  were 
lost  in  admiration  for  a  few  moments,  when 
they  recovered,  and  asked  one  of  Honest 
Old  Abe's  boys  whose  boy  he  was  }  "  I'm 
my  parents'  boy,"  shouted  the  urchin,  which 
burst  of  wit  so  convulsed  the  Committee 
that  they  came  very  near  "  gin'in  eout "  com- 
pletely. In  a  few  moments  Honest  Old 
Abe  finished  his  task,  and  received  the 
news  with  perfect  self-possession.  He  then 
asked  them  up  to  the  house,  where  he  re- 
ceived them  cordially.  He  said  he  split 
three  million  rails  every  day,  although  he 
was  in  very  poor  health.     Mr.  Lincoln  is  a 


222     HOW  OLD  ABE  RECEIVED    THE  NEWS,  ETC. 

jovial  man,  and  has  a  keen  sense  of  the 
ludicrous.  During  the  evening  he  asked 
Mr.  Evarts,  of  New  York,  "  why  Chicago 
was  like  a  hen  crossing  the  street } "  Mr. 
Evarts  gave  it  up.  "  Because,"  said  Mr. 
Lincoln,  "  Old  Grimes  is  dead,  that  good 
old  man  ! "  This  exceedingly  humorous 
thing  created  the  most  uproarious  laughter. 


ROBERTO   THE  ROVER.  223 


XXXV. 

ROBERTO    THE    ROVER  : A   TALE    OF   SEA  AND 

SHORE. 

Chapter  I. — France. 

Our  story  opens  in  the  early  part  of  llie 
year  17 — .  France  was  rockinc^  wildly 
from  centre  to  circumference.  The  arch 
despot  and  unscrupulous  man,  Richard  the 
III.,  was  trembling  like  an  aspen  leaf  upon 
his  throne.  He  had  been  successful,  thi-ough 
the  valuable  aid  of  Richelieu  and  Sir  Wm. 
Donn,  in  destroying  the  Orleans  Dysentery, 
but  still  he  trembled!  O'Mulligan,  the 
snake-eater  of  Ireland,  and  Schnappsgoot  of 
Holland,  a  retired  dealer  in  gin  and  sar- 
dines, had  united  their  forces— some  nine- 
teen men  and  a  brace  of  bull  pups  in  all— 
and  were  overtly  at  work,  their  object  be- 
in^r  to  oust  the  tyrant.     O'Mulligan  was  a 


224  ROBERTO   THE  ROVER: 

young  man  between  fifty-tliree  years  of  age, 
and  was  chiefly  distinguished  for  being  the 
son  of  his  aunt  on  his  great  grandfather's 
side.  Schnappsgoot  was  a  man  of  liberal  edu- 
cation, having  passed  three  weeks  at  Oberlin 
College.  He  was*  a  man  of  great  hardi- 
hood, also,  and  would  frequently  read  an 
entire  column  of  "  railway  matters"  in  the 
Cleveland  Herald  without  shrieking  with 
agony. 


Chapter  II.^The  King. 

The  tyrant  Richard  the  III.  (late  Mr. 
Glostcr)  sat  upon  his  throne  in  the  Palace 
d'  St.  Cloud.  He  was  dressed  in  his  best 
clothes,  and  gorgeous  trappings  surrounded 
him  everywhere.  Courtiers,  in  glittering 
and  golden  armor,  stood  ready  at  his  beck. 
He  sat  moodily  for  a  while,  when  suddenly 
his  sword  flashed  from  its  silvern  scabbard, 
and  he  shouted — 

"Slaves,  some  wine,  ho!" 

The  words  had  scarcely  escaped  his  lips 


A    TALE   OF  SEA   AND  SHORE.  225 

ere  a  bucket  of  champagne  and  a  hoe  were 
placed  before  him. 

As  the  king  raised  the  bucket  to  his  hps, 
a  deep  voice  near  by,  proceeding  from  the 
mouth  of  the  noble  Count  Staghisnibs, 
cried — "  Drink  hearty,  old  feller.  " 

"  Reports,  traveling  on  lightning-wings, 
whisper  of  strange  goings  on  and  cuttings 
up  throughout  this  kingdom.  Knowest 
thou  aught  of  these  things,  most  noble 
Hellitysplit  ?  "  and  the  king  drew  from  the 
upper  pocket  of  his  gold-faced  vest  a  paper 
of  John  Anderson's  solace  and  proceeded 
to  take  a  chaw. 

"  Treason  stalks  monster-like  throughout 
unhappy  France,  my  liege  ! "  said  the  noble 
Hellitysplit.  The  ranks  of  the  P.  O.  R's 
are  daily  swelling,  and  the  G.  R.  J.  A.'s  are 
constantly  on  the  increase.  Already  the 
peasantry  scout  at  cat-fish,  and  demand 
pickled  salmon  for  their  noonday  repasts. 
But,  my  liege,"  and  the  brave  Hellitysplit's 
eyes  flashed  fire,  "  myself  and  sword  are  at 
thy  command ! " 

»  Bully  for  you.  Count,"  said  the  king. 
"But    soft:    methinks    report— perchance 


10* 


226  ROBERTO   THE  ROVER: 

unjustly — hast  spoken  suspiciously  of  thee, 
most  Royal  d'Sardine  ?  How  is  this  ?  Is 
it  a  newspaper  yarn  ?     What's  up  ?" 

D'Sardine  meekly  approached  the  throne, 
knelt  at  the  king's  feet,  and  said :  "  Most 
patient,  gray,  and  red-headed  skinner ;  my 
very  approved  shin-plaster :  that  I've  been 
asked  to  drink  by  the  P.  Q.  R.'s,  it  is  most 
true ;  true,  I  have  imbibed  sundry  mugs  of 
lager  with  them.  The  very  head  and  front 
of  my  offending  hath  this  extent,  no  more." 

"  Tis  well ! "  said  the  King,  rising  and 
looking  fiercely  around.  "  Hadst  thou 
proved  false  I  would  with  my  own  good 
sword  have  cut  off  yer  head,  and  spilled 
your  ber-lud  all  over  the  floor!  If  I 
wouldn't,  blow  me ! " 


Chapter  III. — The  Rover. 

Thrilling  as  the  scenes  depicted  in  the 
preceding  chapter  indubitably  were,  those 
of  this  are  decidedly  thrillinger.  Again 
are  wc  in  the  mighty  presence  of  the  King, 


A    TALE   OF  SLA   AXD   Sllolii:.  22/ 

and  again  is  he  surrounded  by  splendor 
and  gorgeously-mailed  courtiers.  A  sea- 
faring: man  stands  before  him.  It  is  Ro- 
berto  the  Rover,  disguised  as  a  common 
sailor. 

"  So,"  said  the  King,  "  thou  wouldst  have 
audience  with  me ! " 

"  Aye,  aye,  yer  onor,"  said  the  sailor, 
"just  tip  us  yergrapplin  irons  and  pipe  all 
hands  on  deck.  Reef  home  yer  jibpoop 
and  splice  yer  main  topsuls.  Man  the  jib- 
boom  and  let  fly  yer  top-gallunts.  I've  seen 
some  salt  water  in  my  days,  yer  landlubber, 
but  shiver  my  timbers  if  I  hadn't  rather 
coast  among  seagulls  than  landsharks.  My 
name  is  Sweet  William.  You're  old  Uick 
the  Three!  Ahoy  I  Awast!  Dam  my 
eyes  !  "  and  Sweet  William  pawed  the  mar- 
ble floor  and  swung  his  tarpaulin  after  the 
manner  of  sailors  on  the  stage,  and  conse- 
quently, not  a  bit  like  those  on  shipboard. 

"  Mariner,"  said  the  King,  gravely,  "  thy 
language  is  exceeding  lucid,  and  leads  me 
to  infer  that  things  is  workin'  bad." 

"Aye,  aye,  my  hearty!"  yelled  Sweet 
William,  in   dulcet  strains,   reminding  the 


228  ROBERTO   THE  ROVER: 

King  of  the  "  voluptuous  smell  of  physic," 
spoken  of  by  the  late  Mr.  Byron. 

"  What  wouldst  thou,  seafaring  man  }  " 
asked  the  King. 

"  This ! "  cried  the  Rover,  suddenly  tak- 
ing off  his  maritime  clothing  and  putting 
on  an  expensive  suit  of  silk,  bespangled 
with  diamonds.  "  This !  I  am  Roberto  the 
Rover ! " 

The  King  was  thunder-struck.  Cower- 
ing back  in  his  chair  of  state,  he  said  in  a 
tone  of  mingled  fear  and  amazement, 
"  Well,  may  I  be  gaul-darned ! " 

"Ber-lud!  ber-lud!  ber-lud!"  shrieked 
the  Rover,  as  he  drew  a  horse-pistol  and 
fired  it  at  the  King,  who  fell  fatally  killed, 
his  last  words  being,  "  We  are  governed 

TOO  MUCH THIS  IS  THE  LAST    OF    EARTH  !!  !" 

At  this  exciting  juncture  Messrs.  O'Mulli- 
gan  and  Schnappsgoot  (who  had  previously 
entered  into  a  copartnership  with  the  Rover 
for  the  purpose  of  doing  a  general  killing 
business)  burst  into  the  room  and  cut  off 
the  heads  and  let  out  the  inwards  of  all  the 
noblemen  they  encountered.  They  then 
killed  themselves    and    died    like    heroes, 


A    TALE   OF  SEA  AND   SHOBE.  229 

wrapped  up  in  the  Star  Spangled  Banner, 
to  slow  music. 


The  Rover  fled.  He  was  captured  near 
Marseilles  and  thrust  into  prison,  where  he 
lay  for  sixteen  weary  years,  all  attempts  to 
escape  being  futile.  One  night  a  lucky 
thou2:ht  struck  him.  He  raised  the  window 
and  got  out.  But  he  was  unhappy.  Re- 
morse and  dyspepsia  preyed  upon  his  vitals. 
He  tried  Boerhave's  Holland  Bitters  and 
the  Retired  Physician's  Sands  of  Life,  and 
got  well.  He  then  married  the  lovely 
Countess  D'Smith,  and  lived  to  a  green 
old  age,  being  the  triumph  of  virtue  and 
downfall  of  vice. 


"  There  is  a  kiiid  of  physiognomy  in  ike  titles 
of  hooks  no  less  than  in  the  faces  of 
men,  by  zuhich  a  skiful  observer 
xiill  knozu  as  well  what  to  ex- 
pect from  the  one  as  the 
otJicr." — Butler. 


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THE  OLD  MERCHANTS  OF  NEW  YORK. — Personal  incidents,  sketches, 

bits  of  biography,  and  events  in  the  life  of  leading  merchants 

in  New  York.     Four  series.       .        .         i2mo.  cloth,  ?i. 75 

Madame  Octavia  IValton  Le  Vert. 

SOUVENIRS  OF  TRAVEL.— New  edition.    Large  i2mo.  cloth,  $2.00 

Junius  Brutus  Booth. 
MEMORIALS  OF  THE  "  ELDER  BOOTH."— The  aCtOr.  1 2m0.  clotll,  $1.50 

H.  T.  Sperry. 

COUNTRY  LOVE  VS.  CITY  FLIRTATION.— A  Capital  new  Society  talc, 

with  20  superb  iUustrations  by  Hoppin.     i2mo.  cloth,  izsiO 

Epes  Sargent* 

PECULIAR.— A  remarkable  new  novel.    .    .     i2mo.  cloth,  $1.75 

Cuyler  Pine. 
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EEN8HAWE.-  do.  dO-  ?>-75 

Elislia  Kent  Kane. 

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8  BOOKS  PUBLlSnED  BY  G.   W.  CABLETON  &  CO. 

iniscellaneous  "Works. 

JOHN  s.  MOSBT. — His  Life  and  Exploits,  portraits.    i2mo.  $1.75 

THE  SHENANDOAH. — History  of  the  Conf.  steamer,      do.  $1.50 

HELEN  couRTENAY. — Author  "  Vemon  Grove."          do.  $1.75 

BALLADS. — By  Amelia  B.  Edwards.          .         .          do.  $1.50 

STORMCLiFF. — A  novel  by  M.  T.  Walworth.     .         do.  $1.75 

M\N,  and  the  Conditions  that  Surround  Him.          do.  $1.75 

PROMETHEUS  IN  ATLANTIS. — A  prophecy.     .        .          do.  $2.00 

THE  PAPACY  EXPOSED. — Introduction  by  Bishop  Coxe.  do.  $1.75 

PULPIT  PUNGENCIES. — A  rich  comic  book.          .          do.  $1.75 

CHOLERA. — A  Handbook  on  its  treatment  and  cure.  do.  $1.00 

KATE  MARSTONE. — An  American  story.      .         .          do.  $1.50 

WHO  GOES  THERE  ? — By  "  Sentinel."     '      .         .          do.  $1.50 

ALICE  OF  MONMOUTH. — By  Edmund  C.  Stedman.         do.  $1.25 

LYRICS  AND  IDYLLS. do.                            do.                      do.  $1.2$ 

NOTES  ON  SHAKSPEARE. — By  Jas.  H.  Hackett.  i2mo.  cloth,  $1.50 

THE  MONTANAS. — A  novel  by  Mrs.  S.  J.  Hancock,      do.  $1-75 

PASTIMES  WITH  LITTLE  FRIENDS. — Martha  H.  Butt     do.  $1.50 

A  spinster's  STORY. — A  new  HOvel.         .        .        do.  $1-75 

A  life  of  JAMES  STEPHENS. — Fenian  Head-Centre,  do.  $1.00 

free  government  in  ENGLAND- AND  AMERICA. —             do.  $3.00 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  NEW  ENGLAND  FARM-HOUSE. do.  $1-75 

KEPENTHE. — A  new  novel do.  $1.50 

TOGETHER. —           do do.  $1.50 

POEMS. — By  Gay  H.  Naramore.      ...        do.  $1.50 

GOMERY  OF  MONTGOMERY. — By  C.  A.  Washbum.     do.  $2.00 

viCTOiRE. — A  new  novel do.  $1.75 

POEMS. — By  Mrs.  Sarah  T.  Bolton.         .         .         do.  $1.50 

JOHN  guilderstring's  SIN. — A  novcl.       .        .        do.  $1.50 

CENTEOLA. — By  author  "  Green  Mountain  Boys."    do.  $1.50 

BED  TAPE  AND  PIGEON-HOLE  GENERALS. .             .            do.  $1.50 

TREATISE  ON  DEAFNESS. — By  Dr.  E".  B.  Lighthill.      do.  $1.50 

AROUND  THE  PYRAMIDS. — By  Gcu.  Aaron  Ward.      do.  $1.50 

CHINA  AND  THE  CHINESE. — By  W.  L.  G.  Smith.        do.  $1.50 

EDGAR  POE  AND  HIS  CRITICS. — By  Mrs.  Whitman,     do.  $1.00 

MARRIED  OFF. — Illustrated  Satirical  Poem.              do.  50  cts. 

THE  RUSSIAN. BALL. — Illustrated  satirical  poem.       do.  50  cts. 

THE  SNOELACE  BALL. do.                dO.            do.               do.  50  CtS. 

AN  ANSWER  TO  HUGH  MILLER. — By  T.  A.  Davies.     do.  $1.50 
COSMOGONY. — By  Thomas  A.  Uavies.  .        .     8vo.  cloth,  J;2.oo 

TWENTY  YEARS  around  the  world. — J.  Guy  Vassar.    do.  $3-75 

KURAL  ARCHITECTURE. — By  M.  Field.   Illustrated,  do.  $2.00 


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